Fractured Hearts & Lullabies
by criminalxxxmindsxxxfreak
Summary: AU-Derek Morgan transferred from Chicago PD to Vegas to get away from his past, but when he meets a young prostitute he is forced to re-evaluate himself. When the stakes are raised to dangerous levels, can he save Spencer before it's too late? M/R SLASH!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, anyone remember back when I was writing "Grim Reaper" when I said I had an idea for an AU? Well… I now present you with said AU! It only took several long months, right? :3**

**Anyway, there will probably not be a lot of whump (I know, I'm shocked too) but tons of angst, hurt/comfort and romance (eventually)**

**And anyone reading "Internal Damage" don't worry! This will not interfere with that story at all. My updates will remain as speedy and punctual as always. **

**WARNING: sexual situations; references to non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; eventual Morgan/Reid slash; mild language**

**So, read and enjoy! Opinions are much loved!**

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><p><span>Ch. 1<span>

It was a dark night, a slight chill in the Las Vegas air, as Derek Morgan walked down the nearly deserted streets toward his one bedroom apartment. He'd just transferred from Chicago PD a few months ago, deciding that he needed a change of pace. If he was really being honest, he just wanted to get away from the memories that were still burned into his mind. He was off-duty, but he still wore his gun and badge, not really feeling complete without either of them with him at all times.

As he rounded a corner, he passed a couple of tourists who were out for a late night sight-seeing trip and offered them a brief smile. He frowned then, pausing to listen. He heard someone choking, gasping for breath and then a gruff voice growled, "Filthy whore." There was a pained yelp and Morgan's hand went immediately to his gun, purely out of instinct. He rushed around the corner, into the small side alley and stared in shock at the scene before him.

A young man was on his knees on the ground, looking dazed. There was a violent red mark on the side of his face and blood dripping from a split lip. Derek watched as he wiped it away and stared straight ahead, large brown eyes glistening with tears but full of sheer determination. The man standing in front of him was tall, well-built and smelled strongly of alcohol. His pants were undone and sliding down his hips as he yanked the thin young man off the hard ground and slammed him roughly into the dirty bricks of the building next to them. When he started to yank the kid's pants down Derek rushed into the alley with his gun drawn, "Get away from him!" he ordered.

The man froze, took one look at Derek and the gun he held and bolted in the opposite direction down the alley. The kid stumbled and nearly fell to the ground when the hands that had been holding him up suddenly left him. Derek rushed to his side and caught him. "Are you alright?" he asked gently, helping the young man to steady himself.

The kid pushed him away roughly, "I was." He muttered angrily. "Until you came along."

Derek scrunched his brows, staring at the kid as he brushed himself off. He was a tall kid, lanky with lean muscle build and wide brown eyes. "What are you talking about? He was about to rape you!"

The kid looked at Derek as if he were completely clueless. "No he wasn't!" he snapped. "It isn't rape if I'm getting paid."

"Getting…" Slowly, Derek understood and wondered how he hadn't realized that before. "Oh." His face fell into a frown as he studied the younger man.

"Yeah," the kid nodded, rolling his eyes. "Now could you leave? I've got other things to do…"

Derek frowned at him, but refused to move out of the way. "What the hell are you doing out on the streets? How old are you?"

"Old enough to not be your concern." The kid snapped. "Now move!" He tried to shove past Derek, but the stronger man easily pushed him back, earning himself an angry glare from the kid, which he hated to admit was kind of cute on that face.

He folded his arms and stared at him, "Did you want something?" he asked finally.

Derek didn't answer for a long time, "Do you need anything? Food? A ride…"

"I don't need your pity and I sure as hell don't need your help," the kid snapped, still glaring at him. "Now will you please get out of my way?"

"Do you have food?" Derek asked.

"What?"

"You don't look like you eat much; you're too damn skinny." Derek said. It was true, the kid was skeletally thin in a bad way.

"Can't buy food if I don't have money," the kid shot back. "And I'm not too keen on eating out of a dumpster."

"Let me buy you something to eat… You look like you haven't eaten in a while."

The kid stared at him, suspicious now. "…I have more important things to do than eat." He said finally.

"What the hell could be more important than eating?" Derek demanded, frowning at the young man.

"…" For a long time, the kid just stared at him, not showing any signs of replying. Sighing, Derek fished around for his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash, holding it out to the kid.

"Here, buy something to eat, alright?"

"…What's the catch?" the kid demanded, staring at the money suspiciously. He'd learned to never trust 'free' money. There was no such thing.

"No catch." Derek assured him. "No strings attached. Just buy something to eat, alright? You could use it…"

When the kid made no move to take the money, Derek sighed, "It's money, kid. …Consider it a reimbursement for … "

"For you scaring away my customer?" the kid raised a brow, somehow amused that Derek couldn't get those words out. Derek frowned, amazed that he could be so nonchalant about what he was doing for a living and huffed angrily.

"Yeah." He said finally.

The kid licked his lips and snatched the money, shoving it into the pocket of his tight jeans quickly. "Can I go now?" he asked.

"You got a name?" Derek asked slowly.

"…Spencer." The kid said.

Derek nodded thoughtfully, "Take care of yourself, Spencer." He said, stepping out of his way finally and letting him pass.

The kid – Spencer – didn't say a word as he left the alley. Derek watched him leave and felt a strange sense of loss when he was gone. Why had he given the kid money? Why talk to him at all? It was odd, but he felt a strange sense of responsibility toward the kid and he didn't even know him!

He stuck his hands deep in his pockets and continued walking to his apartment, trying to rid his thoughts of worries about the young prostitute… It wasn't his job to worry about them. But there was something about the kid. He couldn't help but want to protect him… Sighing, Derek shook his head. He'd probably never see him again so it was a non-issue anyway.

**~/.\~**

Spencer felt the crumpled wad of money in his pocket with a frown on his face. Why had he given him money? It didn't make sense unless he wanted something, but what on earth could he want besides sex? Shaking his head, the nearly twenty year old young man turned and entered an all-night pharmacy.

He hadn't been lying when he'd said that there were more important things than him eating… His mother taking her medication, for one. Making sure she didn't hurt herself. Those were his priorities. When compared to that, he came in low on his list of responsibilities.

He counted the money that he'd earned that night, along with the money the cop had given him, and was surprised that he actually did have enough to buy something to eat… Maybe even enough to get his mother and him food for a couple of days. He filled his mother's prescription and bought a few things before leaving quickly.

He could feel people's eyes on him the entire time. He didn't like the attention, didn't like that people would look at him and sneer, their lips curling in disgust as if he were some sort of plague or disease. It wasn't like he had chosen for his life to turn out the way it had. He had wanted to go to college, to get a doctorate, maybe more than one… To join the FBI Academy. But his mother was sick. She needed looking after and he couldn't just leave her… Money was the problem, always the damned money.

He'd tried to hold down a real job and take care of his mom, but he missed too much work or was late too often and kept getting fired. His intelligence didn't sway many in his favor in those cases and he couldn't afford his mother's medication _and_ putting himself through school.

If his damn father had stuck around, none of this would be a problem. They would have money, he would be in school and maybe he could get someone to help take care of his mother. Maybe he could even find a hospital for her… But that was a silly dream, he knew. It was never going to happen and he'd accepted his life a long time ago.

His long fingers tapped against the few dollars he had left in his pocket and glanced at the watch around his wrist. It was nearly midnight, he should be getting home but there was no way he had enough to take a cab or even the bus… He sighed and set out to walk the three and half miles to the small little house he'd grown up in.

He found his mind wandering back to the cop who'd been more than kind. Suspiciously kind really… He'd seemed genuinely concerned, but it had to have been for some reason. Spencer wasn't stupid and he knew no one, _no one_, did anything for anyone if it wasn't going to benefit them in some way. It was the reason for the front he put up… If he acted like he didn't give a damn about what his life had become, people would be less inclined to burden him with their false pity. He'd take the honest looks of disgust over the fake, self-indulgent pity any day.

He opened the door to the house to find all the lights still on. He quickly made his way through the house, flipping off lights in empty rooms, until he found his mother, Diana, huddled on the kitchen floor with a butcher knife clutched between her shaking fingers. Cautiously, Spencer approached the woman.

"Mom… It's Spencer. I'm home."

"Spencer?" Diana looked around wildly for a moment before her eyes set on her son and she seemed to relax noticeably. So did Spencer. It seemed at least that her episode was over, whatever it had been.

He knelt slowly and gently eased the knife from the woman's hands. "Yeah, Mom. It's me. Are you okay?"

"…They were trying to get in." she whispered. "They're hiding in the cabinet under the sink. I turned on all the lights because it burns them… But they're still there, Spencer. They're trying to take me away!"

"Shh," Spencer soothed her easily, taking her out of the kitchen, to the small dining area. "It's ok, Mom. I won't let them take you. …I got your medicine today. You should take it."

"It's poison -" Diana started to protest.

"No, not this time." Spencer shook his head, talking slowly and evenly. "I made sure of it, Mom. It'll help make them go away, I promise. They don't like the medicine."

He shook out the pills into his palm and handed her a glass of water, offering her the medicine in the most non-threatening way he could. She eyed it warily, "…Are you sure, Spencer?" she asked.

"I'm sure, Mom. I made sure to check."

She gingerly lifted the pills and slipped them into her mouth, swallowing them with the water. Spencer made her lift her tongue and checked to make sure that she had indeed swallowed them, before leading her to her bedroom and telling her to get some sleep while he put their meager groceries away for the night.

He went to bed that night, like he did many nights, without eating. He took a long, hot shower and scrubbed himself until he felt his skin was raw, hating how dirty he always felt when he got home… But as long as he was able to do it, as long as he could make enough money to take care of his mother, he would. She was all he had in this world and all that really mattered to him.

As he washed the taste of the man from the alley out of his mouth, scrubbing furiously with his toothbrush, he thought again of the cop and spat in the sink, rinsing out his mouth again. Why had he given him the money? He wondered again… It still didn't make any sense to Spencer, but he did his best to put it from his mind as he slid onto his bed and went to sleep. It wasn't likely that he'd ever know the answer, so it was pointless to think about it anyway.

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><p><strong>EN: So, there it is. The first chapter. Should I continue?**

**Derek's a cop in Vegas… Spencer's a prostitute struggling to support a mentally ill mother… They meet and worlds shall collide! How's that for star-crossed lovers? Beat that, Shakespeare! LOL… I need some serious help. Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Review please! The little button down there says he'll give you more Morgan/Reid if you just click it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed this! You guys rock! And of course, thanks to everyone who added this to alert and favorites as well!**

**I wasn't sure how well people would receive this story, so I'm glad you guys like it so far!**

**Also, I know I said there wouldn't be much whump, and their won't, but there is SOME and most of it is in this chapter…**

**WARNING: sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; eventual Morgan/Reid slash; mild language. This is rated 'M' for a reason!**

**REVIEWS AND OPINIONS ARE MUCH LOVED!**

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><p><span>Ch. 2<span>

For Derek the week went by at a torturous pace. He was oddly consumed with thoughts of the young kid he'd ran into that night. He worried about him, wondered if he was alright… He longed to know how he had ended up where he was, what had happened to cause the kid to turn to selling himself to survive. He knew it wasn't normal, the last thing a cop should be doing was pitying a 'criminal' but there was something about those big, wide brown eyes.

Though Spencer had obliviously tried to hide it, Derek had seen his pain, mingled with single minded determination, obstinacy that rivaled his own and a touch of shame that rocked the older man's core. There was a strange strength and fragility that seemed to latch onto the young prostitute and it was hard for Derek to forget that. He wanted more than anything else in the world, to alternately banish the kid from his mind, and search him out to help him.

He found himself distracted the entire week by thoughts of Spencer. His partner, Darren Wells, seemed to notice his distraction after Derek had nearly gotten his head blown off during a drug bust. "Get your head out of the clouds, man." Wells had warned him afterwards, while the paramedics checked over the gash in Derek's head from where he'd slammed into the concrete ground.

"Whoever she is, it won't matter anymore if your brains are decorating the alley," Wells had continued.

Derek felt his brow knit together painfully at that remark, "What are you talking about?" he asked, grimacing as one of the medics carefully cleaned away the blood near his temple.

Wells stopped his pacing and stared at the other man, his own piercing blue eyes meeting the keen brown eyes of his partner. "Don't give me that, Morgan." Wells said. "You've been goo-goo eyed over some chick all week and trust me, it's not worth getting killed. Whatever you fucked up with your girl, think about it off the clock."

"Fucked up?" Derek was completely lost now. "I don't have a 'girl', Wells. That's the furthest thing from my mind right now."

Wells raised a brow, "Didn't know you swung that way," he said. "But it's irrelevant. Thinking about relationship problems at work is a good way to get yourself killed."

"I'm not gay," Derek defended huffily, if a little too quickly for Wells to really believe him. "And I'm not having any relationship problems! I'm not in a relationship."

"Then you shouldn't be so distracted," Wells said matter-of-factly. "Stop having daydreams in the middle of a raid."

"I wasn't daydreaming!" Derek was nearly ready to jump from the gurney he was sitting on and punch the other cop in his face, "I… I just got distracted, ok?"

Wells stopped his pacing once again to stare at Derek, this time realizing that he'd either touched a nerve, or was completely off-base. Somehow, the cop figured it was more a combination of the two. "Alright, fine. No relationship issues. Point is, don't get distracted, ok?"

Derek sighed, "Yeah, I get it."

Wells watched him for a moment and then leaned against the side of the ambulance, watching the medics work on his partner. "What were you distracted by?" he asked slowly.

"None of your business, Wells. Drop it."

Wells help his hands up defensively, "Alright, alright. It's dropped, man." He backed away from the ambulance and headed toward the squad car. Though he had more experience than Derek did, the dark skinned cop was certainly more muscled and intimidating than his thin frame and he wasn't inclined to piss him off any more than he'd clearly already done. "I'm heading back to the station," he called. "See you later, Morgan,"

Morgan grunted his goodbye and closed his eyes as he let the paramedics stitch up the gash that was throbbing and bruised. At least he didn't have a concussion, he didn't think he'd be able to deal with a trip to the hospital.

He gratefully jumped down from the gurney once they were finished and ignored their attempts to get him to at least be checked out by a doctor. He insisted that all he needed was a little fresh air and a good night's sleep and he'd be good as new. He left them, packing their equipment back up, and hurried along his usual route home.

He'd been walking the same path all week, slowing his pace and searching subconsciously for the kid he'd seen earlier. He didn't know why, but he wished he could run into him again. Some part of him was desperate to see Spencer again, if only to make sure that he was alive and it hadn't been some odd, twisted dream as he now felt it had been.

**~/.\~**

Spencer was tired as he walked toward home that night, only a couple hundred dollars in his pocket. He'd save that for when he needed to fill his mom's prescription again. They still had a little food left over anyway, enough to last a few more days until he could go grocery shopping again.

He'd had a long, stressful week and his entire body ached, along with his mind as it dully throbbed against his skull. He had tried, unsuccessfully, to forget about the cop - whose name he still didn't know - and the strange, stupid hope that he'd felt bloom in his chest after that night.

He didn't know why he had felt that childish sense of hope, desperate hope at that, but he'd done his best to forget it. To stop having strange dreams about the unnamed cop riding in on some fantasy white stallion and rescuing him - and his mother - from the hell that was his life. It wouldn't help him to entertain such silly ideas, but he couldn't help it. It was something entirely too human for him to stop it, that annoying longing to have hope. To have a shining savior come out of the darkness.

He wanted to blame his eidetic memory on the fact that he couldn't get the cop out of his head, but he knew there was more to it than that. Part of him didn't want to erase the memory, and that part of him was the foolish, childish part that still clung to every small glimmer of hope that was ever tossed his way. Not to mention that he couldn't help but remember, looking back, how attractive the cop had been…

Not that he was the kind of person to entertain torrid sexual fantasies, especially about a cop he'd only met once, but he couldn't help but notice the defined muscles that had rippled beneath his tight t-shirt and the attractive half smirk, half frown that had graced his lips that night. He sighed and shook his head, breaking the thought before it had a chance to fully form, and made his way around the corner, fingering the money in his pocket and debating about taking the bus or not.

As he passed by a narrow side alley that smelled of a combination of human filth and trash, a voice nearly caused him to lose his balance. "Hello, beautiful."

Spencer jerked away from the hand that reached out to take his wrist and stumbled a few steps back when the man's face came into view. He was a tall, lean muscled man with thick black hair and flickering dark eyes that roved over his body in a way that was all too familiar to the young man. As the man's eyes made it back up to Spencer's face, the smirk grew.

"How much for a ride?" the man asked, a teasing, half malicious light in his eyes.

"I'm off duty," Spencer snapped, rather harshly. He wasn't in the mood at the moment and seriously just wanted to go home and sleep the day and all of its trouble away. The man raised a brow, apparently not happy with that answer. Spencer didn't care, he could fuck himself, he was going home.

He tried to step around the man who was now blocking his path and felt the first bubble of fear work its way into his chest when the man stepped to the side and shook his head. "I don't think so, beautiful. I want you. Now."

"I'm. Off. Duty." Spencer forced through clenched teeth. "You'll have to wait some other time." He again tried to move around the man, but this time he snatched Spencer's arms tightly and yanked him close to his body.

"You're not off duty unless I say you are, you little bitch." Spencer flinched, the man's stale breath brushing across his nose. He felt bile rising in the back of his throat as he struggled to free himself from the man's grasp.

"Let go!" his hissed, twisting painfully in an attempt to get away.

Instead, the man shoved him further into the alley and roughly pushed him to the ground. Spencer winced, dazed as he landed in a heap on the filthy concrete and scraped his palms trying to right himself. He felt the man's strong hands shove against him and force him back down to his knees before a rough fist slammed into the side of his face, knocking his head into the wall.

He groaned and again tried to stand, but suddenly found his air supply cut off as the man grunted and lifted him up by his throat, kneeing him painfully in the crotch as his long limbs flailed out, trying to find some means of escape, before he was once again dropped like a sack of garbage onto the ground.

"Are you going to behave or do you want more?" the man hissed, leaning down and getting into Spencer's face again. Spencer stared at him, tears of pain glittering in his eyes. He knew he should just do whatever the man wanted, but his pride wouldn't let him give in so easily, despite the uselessness of fighting back.

He spat in the man's face and threw his fist out at him, "Get away from me." He snapped, trying again to find his footing. The man growled, hissing and punching the younger man in the chest, forcing the air out of him and possibly bruising several ribs in the process.

Spencer gasped, but before he could fully recover from the attack, he felt a vicious kick to his side and he coughed, spluttering and having a hard time forcing the tears not to fall. An angry hand knotted in his hair and yanked him back up to his knees. Spencer's vision went black for a moment and he winced, grimacing under the harsh grip.

He heard the man fumble with his belt with his free hand and knew what came next. This time he decided it was better not to fight as he heard the man's maliciously whispered words, "Bite me and I'll cut yours off."

He winced and nearly choked as the man forced himself into Spencer's mouth, but he took it without a fight. He was nearly sobbing, tears trailing down his cheeks as the man thrust roughly into him. He wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that he was being forced to do something he normally would've been paid for, or the fact that he wasn't even fighting it anymore… How had he sunken so low?

He gasped and coughed when the man gripped his hair tighter than before and thrust forward roughly, shooting his come down the young man's throat. Spencer fought to push the man away as he gasped for breath and felt the sickening substance slide partially down his throat as the rest of it spilled from his mouth.

A rough hand punched him in the face again and he knew he would have telling bruises for several days to come as the man muttered that he should've swallowed it. He was still sobbing, doubled over and spitting what was left in his mouth out onto the concrete bellow when he felt the man towering over him again and suddenly found himself being dragged into a standing position.

"Take your clothes off." The man ordered. Spencer shuddered, but shook his head. There was no way he was going to let this happen… He was not going to be raped. He'd had sex with countless number of disgusting men before, but at least he'd allowed that to happen, he'd had some degree of control in those situations. This was entirely different and he was not going to simply give in and let the man force himself on him.

"No." he said. His voice shook, but rang out clear in the dark alley. The man glared at him and approached threateningly.

"No?" he asked, raising a brow angrily. "Don't tell me no you pathetic whore. It's not like you haven't done it before. Now strip."

Shaking slightly, Spencer still shook his head, feeling his fear bubbling over as the man got even closer to him. "No." he repeated, less conviction in his voice this time as his body's trembling increased.

Suddenly, he found himself roughly shoved against the brick wall of the building next to him, a powerful arm holding him in place as the bricks scraped his skin. He felt a hand reaching around his front and yanking on his shirt before it was forced over his head and he winced. "Stop!" he cried out, thrashing in the man's grip, intent on putting up as much fight as he could when the man's hands were at his pants, pushing them down.

He fought, kicking out uselessly and crying, tears continuing to drip down as his face, as he pleaded with the man to stop. His pleas fell of deaf ears as the man tossed the young prostitute's pants away completely, leaving him shaking and naked, pressed up against the brick wall by the hard body behind him.

He fought harder as the man kicked his legs apart and then a strangled scream escaped his lips before a large hand clamped down over his mouth as the man forced his way into the boy's entrance roughly. Spencer stood there, crying and shaking and fighting as the man raped him. He tried to cry out for help, but his screams were muffled by the hand over his mouth and he wasn't sure anyone would've wanted to help anyway… he was a prostitute after all, and many people lived under the delusion that a prostitute couldn't really be raped.

His body was starting to spasm beneath the other man as he thrust into him at a vicious rate. He sobbed into the man's hand, feeling pain that rivaled all other pain radiating from between his legs. He knew it would only get worse the longer the man kept at it and wished desperately for him to finish. After a while, his own blood began to ease some of the pain as it acted as a lubricant, but it was hardly much of an improvement as his body rocked under his assailant's rough invasion of his body.

He wasn't sure how long it was before the man finally climaxed, buried deep within his body. He felt a shudder of disgust flush through him at the thought of the man's semen inside of him… he always made his customers wear condoms before entering him…

He crumbled to the ground, a sobbing, bloody mess, when the man let go of him and hissed a snide comment about how good of a whore he was before he mercifully left him alone. Spencer sat there, sobbing, and curled in on himself. He lacked the energy or motivation to get up and pull his clothes back on and instead just let his mind drift as he sobbed out all of his pain on the dirty concrete ground.

**~/.\~**

As Derek made his way down the sidewalk toward his apartment he stopped, slowly becoming aware of soft, whimpering sobs coming from the dark side alley he was passing. Frowning, he slowly edged his way into the filthy cove, thinking it was a lost or hurt child. He didn't expect to see the naked figure of the same prostitute he'd meet earlier that week, curled up in the fetal position, covered in scrapes and bruises…

It didn't take a genius to figure out that the poor kid had been raped and Derek knew that despite his best intentions, Spencer would not want to be touched. But there was no other way he saw that would get the kid off the ground. He knelt by the young man's side and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He felt the muscles tense and jerk away from his fingers, but he only placed his hand more firmly against Spencer's shoulder and whispered soothing words. "Shh, I'm not gonna hurt you kid." He said quietly.

He quickly looked around, spotting his discarded clothes nearby and bit his lip, rubbing easy circles in his back. Slowly, he felt the tense muscles beneath his hand relax, but the sobbing remained a low and constant thrum in the alley. Mentally, Derek debated about what to do. Should he take the kid to the hospital? It seemed like the most logical answer, but as soon as he said 'hospital' the tension in the muscles was back and Spencer frantically shook his head.

"No! I'm fine!" as if to prove his point, the young man started to uncurl himself, but winced and stopped, grimacing.

Derek sighed, wondering if he should force him to go to the hospital, but he had the feeling he'd prove extremely resistant and wouldn't be worth the fight. Still, he needed some form of help. His thoughts were scrambled and worried as he unconsciously went back to rubbing smooth circles on the kid's back.

Before he'd realized it, the heaving of Spencer's chest was slow and even. He'd either passed out or fallen asleep. Derek was willing to bet it was more the former… The kid had obviously had a long and trying night. Biting his lips, still not completely clear on what he was going to do, Derek gently put the clothes back on the young man and lifted him in his arms.

All he knew was that Spencer needed someone to help him, at least for now, and despite the fact that he didn't even really know the kid, he felt like he was the best person to do that. He knew around about what he would be feeling after being raped, after being forced to do things he didn't want to do… And he was determined to give Spencer the support he'd never gotten as a child. At least, that was what he was telling himself was the reason he carried the young man all the way across three blocks to his apartment.

The strange urge to protect and support the young man stemmed only from his own haunted past, not from any sort of unspeakable attraction there might be between them. After all, like he'd told Wells earlier, he was not gay. And even if he was, he didn't even know Spencer's last name, let alone enough about him to care in _that _way. No, this was entirely about helping someone in need. That was all it could ever possibly be.

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><p><strong>EN: Well, this chapter made me cry a little (or a lot…). Poor Spencey!**

**Hope you guys liked it! …Urm… well, you know what I meant. And don't worry, they aren't just going to suddenly fall in love w/each other. Things are going to progress as realistically as possible. That was just a hint at poor Morgan suffering from his own homosexuality and Reid … well, Reid admiring the beauty that is Derek Morgan.**

**Anyway, opinions are much loved! Please let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of your awesome reviews guys! I love you! And of course, thanks to everyone who added this to favorites and alert as well; you rock! XD**

**So, Morgan saved Reid from the dark, cold alley… but will Spencer accept the helping hand? Hmm… you'll have to read and find out X)**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; prostitution; non-consensual sexual acts; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW! Your opinions mean the world to me :3**

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><p><span>Ch. 3<span>

Derek wasn't entirely sure what to do once he got back to his apartment with Spencer. The younger man was still asleep, or passed out, in his arms and he had a strong urge to call an ambulance and the police as well… but if he knew one thing, it was that the second Spencer heard the word police, he would run.

Looking around frantically and chewing his lip, he glanced back down at the man he was currently holding. He was pale and his clothes were stained with grime and blood… The first thing he really needed was a bath, but Derek wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of bathing him and he was still unconscious so he couldn't bathe himself.

He stood there, his arms stiff and muscles burning under the added weight he was carrying, for nearly five minutes before finally giving in and carrying Spencer to the small bathroom. He sat him down on the soft rug and stared down at him, his tall, thin form looking frail and breakable.

Intent on procrastinating as long as he possibly could, Derek rummaged through his cabinets to find a clean towel and a pair of old pajamas that would possibly fit the younger man. He plugged the drain in the tub and turned the water on, watching it fill up for about ten minutes.

Once the tub was as full as he wanted, he turned the water off and sat there, frowning into space. He grabbed a bottle of body wash and a rag and sloshed the water around, checking to make sure it was warm enough and sat back. He really did not want to do this… And he was almost positive that if Spencer was awake, he wouldn't want him to do this this either. But it had to be done.

Swearing under his breath, he slid down to the floor, kneeling next to the young man and removing his shirt as gently as he could, staring at the numerous scrapes and bruises, some much too old to have been caused by what happened that night.

Swallowing, Derek shook his head, his eyes sad as he carefully removed his pants, averting his eyes pointedly even though Spencer was completely unconscious. Still not looking directly at the now naked young man, Derek lifted him easily and sat him in the warm water.

Spencer twitched slightly, his eyes fluttered at the contact of warm water on his freezing skin, but other than that he remained still.

Derek leaned forward, ignoring the fact that there was blood drifting into the clear water now, and slowly, gently, washed the dirty, cold skin, focusing his gaze on the tiles as his hands slipped bellow the water. He was thankful, at least, that Spencer wasn't still bleeding, because then he'd have no other option but to take him to the hospital.

It felt like hours before he'd finished bathing the young man. He slid his arms carefully around his thin form and lifted him up, sitting him on the towel he'd laid out earlier and unstopping the tub, letting the dirty water spin down the drain, disappearing with a _squelch-_ing sound.

Carefully, ever mindful of the bruises and cuts, Derek dressed the young man, searching as surreptitiously as possible for any damaging injuries that needed immediate medical attention. Once satisfied that he'd done all that he could for the moment, the cop once again lifted the young prostitute in his arms and carried him into his bedroom, setting him down easily on his bed and pulling the blankets around his sleeping form.

He watched Spencer for a few brief moments before grabbing a spare pillow and blanket and heading to the living room to make himself a bed on the couch for the night. Tired as he was, it took several hours for him to finally drift into a fitful sleep, his mind revolving around images of the young man sleeping in the bedroom nearby.

**~/.\~**

Spencer woke up comfortable and warm for the first time in what had to be years. He yawned contentedly and rolled over, his eyes scrunching shut tight as the events of the previous night began to flicker across his mind. Suddenly, he bolted upright, brown eyes open wide, and stared around the unfamiliar room in confusion and fear.

How had he gotten here? What the hell was he wearing? Where was he? He knew he'd never been here before, but what he didn't know was why he was here now. The last thing he remembered was a soft, somewhat familiar voice telling him it was alright, that he wasn't going to hurt him. Who had that been?

Cautiously, the young man slid out the large, warm bed he was currently in and made his way slowly across the carpeted floor. The door to the bedroom stood open just a crack and he could hear and smell food being cooked from somewhere nearby in the apartment.

Chewing his lower lip, Spencer pulled the door open and edged out of the bedroom, looking around and finding himself in a small living room, a blanket and pillow crumpled up at one end of a large couch. A small, open archway led into a tiny kitchen and he quietly made his way toward the smell of food, his stomach knotting and twisting in hunger as the scent wafted toward him.

He was shocked when he saw the cop from the week before standing there, fussing over a small stove, eggs sizzling in a frying pan. Spencer stood in the doorway for several moments before he was spotted and the cop offered him a slight smile.

"Good, you're awake." He said. He seemed just as kind as he had before, but that only threw the young prostitute off even more. What was going on?

Absently, Spencer rubbed his pale arms, "Yeah… Um… where am I?" he asked, wincing slightly as he felt the stiffness in his muscles clearly for the first time since he'd woken up.

"Oh, right, sorry. This is my apartment." The cop waved a hand around to indicate the place and turned back to the egg in the pan, flipping it over and turning back to him. "I don't know how you like your eggs but -"

"Why did you bring me here?" Spencer interrupted him. Whatever the reason was, he'd like to know now, before he got too comfortable.

The cop's face turned somber and he sat the spatula he was holding down for a moment. "I… I found you in an alley last night, kid."

"I'm not a kid," Spencer protested angrily. The argument went ignored by the cop.

"And when I said I would take you to the hospital, you freaked -"

"I don't need a hospital."

"So I took you here instead. I couldn't just leave you out there alone." The cop continued, some faint look of hurt in his eyes as he turned away from Spencer again and slid the egg onto a waiting plate.

"What do you want?" Spencer asked after a moment of silence, a frown already in place on his suspicious face.

The cop turned back to face him, "To help." He said. "That's all I want, Spencer."

Spencer looked unconvinced, but didn't say a word as the cop offered him a plate and fork. He reluctantly took it, unable to ignore the grumbling in his stomach as he ate quickly. The cop watched him for a minute, making sure he was indeed eating, before he too ate his breakfast.

After they'd both finished and the dishes had been tossed in the sink, Spencer followed him warily into the living room, looking around the place curiously. "I'm Derek, by the way." The cop said. "You didn't give me a chance to introduce myself the other night."

Spencer skeptically stared at the offered hand that was suddenly thrust toward him and ignored it, turning away and looking at a photograph of Derek and three smiling women. "Who's this?" he asked.

"My family." Derek answered, picking up the picture. "That's my mom, my sister Desi and my sister Sara."

Spencer stared at the photo for a long moment before asking, "What about your dad?"

A look of hurt flashed through the cop's eyes before he said, "He… he was killed when I was ten."

Spencer looked away guiltily, "Oh… sorry." He said quietly.

"Don't worry about it." Derek said. He was watching the young man with interest as he stared around his apartment. "It was a long time ago…"

The young man nodded, "Right…" he said, casting wide eyes toward the door he'd exited earlier. "Where are my clothes?" he asked suddenly.

Derek frowned, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. "Oh, um… in the bathroom." He said. "They're still dirty -"

"Where's the bathroom?" Spencer demanded, looking around the place for another door.

"It's down the hall on the right, but -" Derek couldn't finish before Spencer was off to the bathroom. He came to the door just in time to have it slammed in his face and he heard the lock click. He sighed.

"Kid, I could clean them for you, or give you something of mine to wear you don't have to wear the same clothes again."

Spencer ignored him on the other side of the door, shucking off the clothes that he'd been wearing when he woke, and tugging his dirty clothes back on as quickly as he could. He threw the door open and started to head for the door, intent on leaving as quickly as possible.

Derek caught his arm, "Hey, c'mon, Spencer. What's the rush?" he asked. Spencer met his eyes for a brief moment before shaking his grip off and standing there, looking torn for just a minute.

"I have things to do." He said, his throat feeling tight as he tried desperately to ignore that tiny little voice in the back of his mind that said maybe he could trust this man. There was no way he was going to be that stupid.

Derek looked at him for a moment, swallowing. "I know you don't want to talk about what happened to you last night -"

"Nothing happened." Spencer said, his voice harsh as he stared angrily at the cop before him. "Nothing."

Derek shook his head sadly, which only added to Spencer's anger. "You know that isn't true, and pretending that it didn't happen isn't going to do you any good, Spencer."

The young man glared at him, his defenses kicking in before that stupid voice that said 'trust him' could gain control. "I'm a prostitute, _officer. _I can't be raped, remember?" he sneered, turning to leave again.

"I don't believe that." Derek said quietly as Spencer's hand hovered over the door knob. The young man hesitated as he fought with himself, wondering if maybe he should stay, maybe he should accept his offers of help. But ultimately, he couldn't. And not just because he was scared of trusting someone… he had to get home to his mother. She would be frantic because he hadn't come home the night before.

He ducked his head, brown curls falling into his face slightly as he twisted the knob and pulled the door open. He didn't even look back as he shook his head and left. "Thanks for… for everything."

Derek watched him go, his heart dropping in his chest for some reason he wasn't sure of. His voice was so quiet he'd hardly been able to make out the words that had been spoken, but he felt tears pricking his eyes and he had no idea why he cared so much that Spencer was pushing him away. He hardly knew him, it made no sense to him why he cared at all.

He was yanked out of his thoughts by the ringing off his cell phone. Glancing at the caller ID he saw Wells's name and sighed. He flipped the phone open and shoved all thoughts of the young prostitute out of his mind as he slipped into work mode and listened intently to his partner over the phone. He'd done all he could for Spencer. At least, that's what he was telling himself.

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><p><strong>EN: I'm not sure about this chapter… what do you guys think?**

**Spencer's pushing Derek away. Aw. Spencey, Derek just wants to help! Darn it. Ah well, maybe next chapter will get him to open his eyes…**

**Don't forget to review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks so much to all of my wonderful reviewers! You guys are amazing! And of course, thanks to everyone who added this to favorites and alert as well! :3 I love you guys!**

**Now, chapter four… well, let's see how long it's going to take for Spencer to get rid of his stubborn streak, shall we?**

**WARNING: Eventual Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; references to non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW! I'll give you more Morgan/Reid awesomeness if you do!**

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><p><span>Ch. 4<span>

Spencer walked from Derek's apartment to the closest bus stop he could find and sat down on the bench. He didn't plan on taking the bus, but he needed a moment to clear his head. He fought the urge to curl up into a ball and cry, because that would not garner him anything except unwanted attention. He refused to think about what that man had done to him the night before. It hadn't been so different from some of his customers anyway.

Except that it was different. Not only had he had no control in the situation, he'd been brutally attacked against his own will and despite his best efforts to lie to himself, he could still hear the man's malicious laugh, feel him tearing into his flesh. He absently massaged a bruise on his arm and stared straight forward, his eyes distant.

He sat there for a long while, his mind whirling with questions he didn't have the answers to and shying away from any thought of the previous night. Eventually, he made himself stand and continue on down the streets of Las Vegas. Part of him wanted to go right back to his usual corner and continue on like nothing had happened, and as much as that brief sense of routine would help, he knew he had to go home and check on his mother. She'd been alone for more than twenty-four hours and if there was one thing he knew, it was that a lot of bad things can happen in the span of one day.

It was nearly noon before the young man finally reached his destination. He immediately went in search of his mother, feeling panic rise inside of him when he didn't find her in the living room, the kitchen or her own bedroom. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, fear beginning to well inside his chest, he checked his own bedroom and let out a sigh of relief when he found her there, curled up on his bed, her eyes closed.

Shucking off the dirty clothes he was wearing, Spencer quickly found something clean to put on and made his way to his bed. "Mom," he whispered, reaching out and gently shaking the woman by the shoulder. She grumbled, but didn't move.

"Mom it's Spencer," he said, raising his voice just a little bit more. "You need to wake up, Mom."

She rolled over slowly and cracked her eyes just enough for her to see out of them. "Spencer?" she asked sleepily. "What are you doing in my room?"

"This is my room, Mom." He said, smiling slightly down at her. "It's almost 12:00, you need to get up."

She made a face and looked around the room, opening her eyes more and looking surprised when she realized that it was indeed her son's bedroom. "You didn't come home last night," she said suddenly. "I was worried. They told me you were in danger… are you okay?"

Diana suddenly sat straight on the bed, studying her son with narrowed eyes, taking in the scrapes and bruises on his face and arms. "Who hurt you, baby?" she asked quietly, reaching out to put a gentle hand on a particularly nasty bruise on the side of his face.

He reached up slowly and put his hand over hers, "It's not important right now, Mom." He told her quietly. "Come on, let's get something to eat and I'll take you to the library today."

She frowned, "You don't have to work today?" she asked, glancing at the clock. "Goodness, Spencer, you're so late!"

Spencer frowned, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment to fight back the wince he could feel trying to happen. "No… I… I have the day off because I worked so late last night, Mom. Don't worry about it."

Diana tilted her head, lowering her hand from her son's face and looking thoughtful. Slowly, she smiled and nodded. "Alright," she agreed. "I've been needing something new to read anyway; I've read all the books we have half a dozen times."

The young man smiled brightly at his mother, pushing aside his own pain and fears and helping her get out of bed and back downstairs to the kitchen so that they could eat lunch and get ready for their day out. He knew not earning any money for the night was going to hurt their grocery supply, but it was worth it for the way his mother's eyes - for once clear and lucid - lit up at the prospect of new books to read.

**~/.\~**

Derek massaged his temples, sitting at his desk and staring down blankly at the papers in front of him. He sincerely hated this part of his job, especially when he couldn't seem to bring his mind to focus on the words that were blurring together in front of his eyes as he tried to recall the events of the night before and accurately put them into words for his boss.

A hand clapped him on the back, briefly squeezing his shoulder and he turned to see Wells standing there, a cautious look on his face. "You alright, Morgan?" the other officer asked.

"I'm fine, Wells. I told you last night." Derek snapped, a little more harshly than he'd intended to.

Wells sighed, shaking his head. "You can say that all you want man, it's pretty damn clear your head's not in the game. And with our job, that's dangerous."

"My head isn't anywhere but here, Wells." Derek told him. "I just… I have a headache, it's a little hard to focus."

Wells nodded slowly, looking unconvinced. "Right… Well, since it seems like you've had this 'headache' for about a week, maybe you should see a doctor about that, huh?"

Derek scowled, "I. Am. Fine." He ground through his teeth and turned stubbornly back to the paperwork on his desk. Wells sighed, shaking his head and looking frustrated. He knew there was something going on with his partner, but whatever it was, it was clearly personal.

He decided to let the subject drop and moved to sit at his desk when a gruff voice yelled their names. "WELLS! MORGAN!"

The two officers stood and turned to face their boss, Detective Sergeant Cellucci, a tall Italian man with graying hair and piercing eyes. "Sir?" Wells responded, meeting the detective's frown and looking to him expectantly.

"Double homicide, west side of town outside of the Affinity Apartment Complex. Get to the scene now."

"Yes, sir." They said at the same time, holstering their guns and rushing out of the station as quickly as they could.

**~/.\~**

They drove up to a dingy side street right across from the small, beaten down Affinity Apartments and stepped out of the car. There were passers-by already crowded around a CSI van sat standing open, the area already roped off with bright yellow crime scene tape.

Lying a few feet into the mouth of the alley was a young woman and a man, the woman was a half naked, dressed in a torn, incredibly tight dress and the man's pants were undone. They'd both been shot several times.

"Any ID?" Wells asked one of the CSIs marking blood spatter on the ground.

The young man looked up, "The man had a wallet, his name's Michael Farmer. The female was ID'd as a local prostitute who went by the name Storme."

Morgan frowned down at the bodies, some strange sense of familiarity hitting him as he stared down at their bodies.

"Does this look familiar to you?" Wells asked, glancing up at Derek from where he was kneeling next to the female's body.

Derek nodded, thinking back to a case they'd had almost three weeks earlier. "Replace Storme with a male prostitute and Farmer with Nicholas Rodensky and it's almost identical." He said, frowning.

"We never caught that guy, did we?" Wells asked, his brows scrunching together.

"No…" Derek shook his head. "There wasn't any evidence…"

The CSI frowned, "Are you two saying there's a serial killer here?" he asked.

The officers looked at each other, not sure what to say. "We don't know," Wells said, turning back to the bodies. "But you need to sweep this scene again. Make sure you don't miss a damn thing, got it?"

The CSI looked aggravated at being ordered around by a cop, but nodded and stood, motioning for the others to move in and start taking pictures while they went back to work.

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><p><strong>EN: And the plot thickens… lol. Yeah, I'm incredibly messed up in the head. Aren't most writers? Especially on this site…**

**XD Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Aw! I heart you guys so much for all of your amazing reviews! You're awesomeness knows no bounds XD And a huge thank you to all of the favorites and alert adds as well!**

**Also, I've got a surprise for you my dear, devoted readers: a couple more familiar faces shall be making appearances in this fic as well! Soon, in fact. Can anyone guess who they are?**

**;) Now, back to the reason you clicked the link (either in your email or because you just found this fic) … drum roll please…. Da da da da… Chapter five! *mechanical cheering noises* *electrical zapping sound* *we are experiencing technical difficulties, please be patient another moment* *metal clinking* *loud swears from author* *hammer smashing metal* *Fuck it all, just get on with it!* (that was Lola… my insane muse) *exasperated sigh* **

**Anyway, while they're fixing my broken ego booster, here's the chapter… oh, and least I forget, the customary warning…**

**WARNING: Eventual Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; references to non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**REVIEWS = SMILES = MORGAN/REID FUN TIME XD**

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><p><span>Ch. 5<span>

That night, Spencer fixed his mom dinner and made sure she took her medication and was off to bed before slipping quietly out of the house. He'd donned his better pair of jeans (the ones without ratty holes in them) and an old button up shirt he'd worn to countless job interviews years earlier. He threw a long overcoat on and shoved his hands deep in his pockets before making his way down the drive and toward the sidewalk that would take him to the busier section of Las Vegas. The one the tourists came to see.

He didn't head toward the corner where he and a few other local prostitutes usually stood, instead turning down toward the alley where he'd been attacked the previous night. He slid into the dark, grimy crevasse and stared around the space, surprised at how little it seemed to have been affected by the violence it had seen just twenty-four hours prior.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, lost in his own thoughts and horrible memories, pondering exactly how he had ended up where he was and what had gone wrong in his life that made him the way he was, but the patter of feet and drone of cars grew less frequent by the time he finally emerged once more and continued on to his original path.

He was walking for nearly an hour, slipping past tourists and people on holiday surreptitiously, thankful that he was the type of person most people simply looked right through, before he finally came to a stop outside of a large office building, the windows still glowing with fluorescent lights. He swallowed hard, thinking back to the times he'd spent in this place a child.

He could still remember visits here when he was about four or five, being too small to even reach the tall counter of the reception area, looking up at the paintings of old, probably dead men with serious looks on their faces and holding tight to his father's hand so that he wouldn't get distracted and get lost.

The last time he'd been here, he was seven. And three years later, the man he called his father walked away from him and his mentally ill wife, leaving their lives as if he had never been there. It had been up to Spencer then, to make sure his mother took her medication, and often times there wasn't much money to buy food. He'd been too young to get a job at the time, and hadn't known what he was going to do.

The hardest time had been when he was thirteen, in high school and his mother wasn't able to work full time any longer. He had been so desperate for any sort of job, begging store clerks and librarians who had to turn him away because he was too young. But then… something happened and it changed his life forever. He found a way to make money to support his mother, at least temporarily. Or so he'd thought.

One of the older boys at school, one who had a bad habit of bullying him, caught him after school one day and told him that he'd heard about his family problems. He told Spencer that he would help him, he would give him a job. And of course, Spencer had agreed. When the boy told him to meet him behind the bleachers the next day, he did without question.

It was only then that he found out what the boy wanted him to do for him. At first, the thirteen year old had refused, but the other boy kept insisting, telling him that he needed the money. And Spencer did need the money, his mother needed medication, they needed food… And he so he did it.

Afterwards, he felt disgusting and dirty and had to scrub himself raw in the tub that night, but he'd gotten enough money for his mother to pay for her prescription. He never did tell her where he got that money… And every week, at least once a week, the boy would tell him to meet him somewhere and he would, to be able to take care of his mother.

And every time, he felt worse and worse about himself, but he had to keep doing it, because they needed the money. Eventually, the one boy turned into two, and then soon Spencer had a long list of students, some female, some male, paying him to have sex with them. He promised himself that he would stop once he graduated that year…

But he was still too young to have a job and couldn't just leave his mother to go to college across the country. So he stayed and for a few months, continued selling himself to his former classmates. But eventually, he cut them off. He refused to keep doing that, but then he had to try and find a job.

He was hired quite a few times, but never was able to keep the job for very long. It seemed his mother always had some sort of emergency that happened and he missed work, he was late, he was distracted. It was never easy to talk his way out of being fired when he knew the employers were right, but he couldn't explain what had caused his tardiness. Eventually, he'd turned back to what he knew: selling his body.

And now, he was standing outside of his father's law firm, thinking back to the single event that had catalyzed his entire, terrible life, and felt nothing but anger and resentment.

"Can I help you, son?" a voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he turned to see a man in a business suit walking down the steps of the building, eyeing him with concern.

Swallowing quickly, Spencer shook his head. "No, I'm fine, thanks." He said, his voice sounding tight and slightly off pitch. The man stared at him for a moment longer before nodding and hurrying down the steps. Spencer pressed his lips together and took a deep breath, mounting the steps slowly until he reached the imposing glass doors.

He made this trip every year at the same time: his parents' anniversary. And that was tomorrow. He had yet to actually make it inside, usually he simply stood outside by the steps staring in and thinking about how terrible his life was. But he always told himself that he would go inside and speak to his father. He simply never had enough nerve to do that.

Maybe this year would be different.

He swallowed thickly one more time and drew himself up, straightening his back and pushing open the doors. He walked down the greeting area and toward the reception counter, now standing far taller than it did. His stomach was twisting in knots when the receptionist looked up and offered him a kind smile.

"Good evening, sir. How can I help you?"

His throat was tight and his mouth felt heavy as he stared at the woman blankly, trying to process whatever she had just said to him.

She eyed him worriedly, "Sir? Are you alright? Can I help you with anything?"

"Um… I…" he forced himself to breath evenly around the tightness in his chest and took a moment to clear his thoughts. "Is… is William Reid in?"

"Yes, sir, he's in his office. Do you need me to get him?" she asked promptly, preparing to press a button and call his father at his word.

"I… uh, yeah." He nodded, feeling sweat bead his forehead. "Yes, please."

"Alright, and who should I tell him is here?" she asked.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably on his feet for a moment, thinking hard about what to tell her. He was _not _going to say that he was William's son, that was for certain. But what could he say? "Just… just tell him it's an old friend. It's… sort of a surprise."

She looked confused and a bit reluctant, but nodded anyway. "Alright, sir, just have a seat over there and I call him out for you." She told him, motioning to the seats in a small area near her desk.

He made his way to them before pausing, and turning instead down a narrow hall, making his way to where the foggy memories in his brain told him the bathroom was. He slid inside and splashed his face with water, clutching the sink and breathing deeply, in and out. He had to get a grip on himself, it wouldn't do him any good to lose it like this now.

After a few minutes, he slowly made his way back to the reception area, stopping dead when he saw a tall man in his early fifties standing there chatting quietly with the receptionist. His heart seized in his chest and he couldn't take another step forward.

" - he seemed like a nice young man." The receptionist was saying. "But he was so nervous acting…"

"Nervous?" William looked thoughtful. "What did he say he wanted?"

"He didn't. He just said he was an old friend and he wanted to speak to you." The woman said. "He probably just went to the bathroom; he should be back soon."

Spencer watched them from where he was hiding behind the wall to the hallway. Seeing his father all dressed up, happy and healthy sent a spike of pure, white-hot fury running through his chest and his fists clenched. His throat was so tight he couldn't breath and somehow still couldn't bring himself to move.

William and the receptionist talked quietly for a few more minutes, but Spencer simply couldn't find the will to make his feet move. He seemed to have been permanently welded to the spot. After a little while, William told her to call him when the 'young man' got out of the bathroom and went back to his office.

It was only once William was out of sight that Spencer's stiff muscles were able to relax and he began walking briskly. Away from the reception area. The woman spotted him and called after him, telling him to wait and she would get Mr. Reid out immediately, but Spencer had decided he didn't want to speak to 'Mr. Reid'. He had gone most of his life without the man there to support him and his mother, he would keep going on without him. Besides, he was fairly certain that if he tried to talk to his father now, after all that had happened, he'd likely end up trying to kill him and that wouldn't accomplish anything.

So instead he made his way back down the streets of Las Vegas, hurrying back home to the sleeping mother that was the only family he had in this world, wondering if things were ever going to get any better.

**~/.\~**

The next few days for Derek were long ones. He spent a lot of time interviewing witnesses and family members of the two murder victims they'd found in the alley and was about tired of coming up with nothing. He was fairly certain that there was absolutely no way that he was ever going to solve this case with the little information that he and Wells had to go on.

They'd talked to Detective Cellucci, telling him their worries that Vegas may have a serial killer murdering prostitutes and their clients, but Cellucci told them two isolated murders weren't enough to call it a serial case. So the officers were left without answers or resources and hit a dead end pretty quickly. Not to mention the fact that most people only seemed to care because of the man who was murdered along side of Storme the prostitute. It was slightly infuriating to Derek that no one ever seemed to remember that there were two victims in this case unless someone wondered about the motive, and then she became the motive.

So far, their best and only suspect in the case was Theresa Farmer, Michael Farmer's wife. The theory was that she had found out about her husband's use of prostitutes and had followed him that night, killing him and Storme in a fit of rage when she caught him in the act.

It was a theory neither Derek nor Wells really thought was possible, but it was all that they had at the moment.

Not only were Derek's days stressful because of the case he was currently working on, but he was also distracted - though he denied it at every remark from Wells - and couldn't seem to keep his mind off of Spencer for very long.

Soon, his thoughts had turned from simply wondering if he were safe and still alive, to worrying about what could happen if there was a serial killer in Vegas killing prostitutes. Somehow, the idea of Spencer being killed sent daggers to the cop's heart and he hoped that the kid was alright wherever he was. Some part of him hoped that he would cross paths with the young prostitute again, but he found that highly unlikely and tried to clear his thoughts whenever working, but it was a task easier said than done.

Nearly two more weeks had gone by, Derek slowly trimming down the amount of time he thought about that pair of big, heart-wrenching brown eyes, before anything happened to break up the monotonous pattern that had become his life.

Another murder was called in, this one very near the alley where he'd first run into the kid. He and Wells took it, sure that it was connected to the other two cases, and his heart was thumping a million miles a minute as worry clawed his gut. What if Spencer had been killed? That thought bothered him far more than he thought it should.

They made their way through the crowd and ducked underneath the crime scene tape to take in the mangled bodies of two young men, both half naked and staring empty-eyed up at them. It was almost identical to the other crime scenes. Derek shot Wells a look and his partner nodded, thinking the exact same thing he was. They had a serial killer on their hands.

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><p><strong>EN: Ooh, yep. A serial killer. Killing prostitutes. Which Spencer is. I am sick and twisted. Sigh.**

**So, now you guys know exactly how poor Spencey ended up where he is. Aren't I a cruel, sick person? I thought so.**

**So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! There is more to come soon and don't forget: two more familiar faces will be appearing soon as well!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Aw, you guys are phenomenal :) Seriously, I love you!**

**Now, Spencer's terrible and tragic past is out in the open (for all of us, anyway) But knowing that, do you think he can ever really trust Derek at all? And what the heck is the deal with the serial killer? Hmm… I haven't got a clue, you'll have to take that up with my insane muse. Her name is Lola and she lives in my head… just try not to make her angry, 'cause she takes it out on me, LOL**

**Onto chapter 6!**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; non-consensual sexual acts; sexual situations; prostitution; language**

**PWEEZE REVIEW!**

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><p><span>Ch. 6<span>

Derek arrived at work already in a bad mood. They hadn't had any more bodies found, luckily, but there also wasn't much evidence on the scene for them to work with either. And it seemed like they were only working toward a dead end.

"Man, what happened to you?" Wells blinked, looking the agent up and down in with a scrutinizing eye. "You look like shit."

"Thanks," Morgan muttered, taking a long drink of bitter break room coffee and turning back to the files in front of him.

"C'mon, don't be like that, Morgan." Wells sighed, perching himself on the edge of his desk. "You've been acting weird for a while now… and you look like a fucking zombie for Christ's sake. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing." The younger cop forced through clenched teeth. Truthfully, he hadn't been getting much sleep. He didn't know why, but this case was bothering him more than most other cases had. Normally he only got this affected by a case when there were children involved, but for some reason he didn't think too much about, these murders were hitting him hard.

Things had finally come to a head the night before when he'd woken breathless and sweating from a nightmare he chose not to dwell on too much. He had seen Spencer lying dead in a pool of his own blood with some nameless John stretched out beside him. He hadn't been able to get back to sleep after that particular dream and knew his partner was right. He certainly did 'look like shit.'

Sensing that the other man didn't want to talk about whatever was bothering him, Wells sighed and slid behind his own desk, shuffling through paperwork and wondering when they were going to catch a break on this murder case.

At least they had managed to convince Cellucci that they did indeed have a serial killer out there, which had granted them a bit more help on the case for the time being. What Derek wasn't thrilled about was the fact that it meant he had to deal with two more prying and annoyingly watchful detectives than he normally did.

_And speak of the devil… _he though bitterly as two said cops walked into the station doors and approached his desk. Detective Randal Bradley was a tall, cocky sort of man with thick brown hair a mischievous glint in his eyes. He had gotten in trouble more than once for doing something stupid and immature around the station. Sometimes it was comically healthy… most of the time it was irritating.

And his partner, Detective Emily Prentiss, wasn't much better. Sure she usually respected boundaries and certainly never did anything stupid while working, but the woman was relentlessly observant, more stubborn than any man he'd ever met and had a bad habit of trying to fix everyone else's personal problems. Derek figured it was mostly because she didn't want to attempt fixing her own terrible relationship with her mother.

He just knew that she was going to badger him about what was wrong all day once she saw his disheveled appearance and that was simply something he wasn't in the mood for at the moment.

Sure enough, the second the brunette noticed his crumbled clothes, blearily eyes and unshaved face, she frowned. "Long night, Morgan?" she asked, raising a brow at the man.

"I couldn't sleep, Prentiss." He said, his tone curt and clearly saying that he didn't want to talk about it. Especially with her.

She frowned, "Something wrong?" she asked, not hearing the harshness in his tone.

"Nothing is wrong." He said, his jaw tight. "I just haven't been sleeping well lately."

She opened her mouth to ask something else when Wells interrupted her, "Just let it go, Emily. He's been like this for two weeks and he's not talking. Let's get back to the case, huh?"

She sighed, shaking her head and muttering something under her breath about 'men' before taking a free seat and listening as Wells and Morgan filled in the other two cops on the details of the murders so far.

**~/.\~**

Spencer headed toward his usual corner early in the morning that Saturday, a frown on his face. He'd been up later than usual the night before, unable to sleep after having seen a short segment on the news about a murdered prostitute by the name of Damien Montgomery. Spencer had known the young man, had spoken to him only a few days before he was killed in fact. And he was the third prostitute to be murdered recently.

More on edge than normal, the young man continued down the sidewalk and ended up in a congested area of the city near an old, sleazy motel. A lot of clients took him there if they were looking for some privacy. He sighed and squinted slightly against the early morning Vegas sunlight, resigning himself to the hell that came every single day.

People passed by on skate boards or simply walking without throwing him a passing glance. The few who did never met his eyes and some even looked tempted to spit on the young man, though none did. It was just another regular day for Spencer.

He was standing there for nearly a half-hour before a young girl, probably no more than seventeen years old, came slowly walking up to where he was standing. She was wearing a tight, torn tank top without a bra and a ragged looking mini-skirt with worn heels. He smiled slightly at her and she smiled back, leaning against the building beside him casually.

"How's it looking this morning, Spence?" she asked, turning her copper-colored eyes up to his face. She had a cute heart-shaped face and long, curly blond hair. Spencer thought she might've even been beautiful if it weren't for what she was doing with her life. Not that she had much of a choice considering her step-father had kicked her out of the house a year ago.

"Slow…" Spencer commented lightly, his eyes never leaving the busy street in front of him. "It'll pick up around noon, though. That's when all the business men go to lunch."

She made a face and sighed, pulling at the short hem of her skirt and letting her eyes dart around the busy city with boredom.

Suddenly, Spencer spoke again. "Amber?" he asked. She looked back up at him, raising her brows and waiting patiently for him to continue. "Do you ever think about… about what it would be like to not have to do this?"

She snorted cynically, "Of course I do, Spencer. But when's that gonna happen? No one else wants me, I don't have anywhere to go. This is my only option if I want to eat."

He sighed, nodding slowly. He definitely understood that. "Did you hear about Damien?" he asked quietly, meeting her eyes for the briefest of moments.

She looked down, her eyes boring into the concrete before nodding. "Yeah… I was with him when he and that John headed off together." She said, looking up again. "When he didn't come back I just figured he'd taken off for the night, ya know? And then I hear the next day that he's dead." Her voice hardened.

Spencer chewed on his lip, looking thoughtful and sad at the same time. He was silent for a while, neither of them speaking. About an hour later a car slid to a stop and the driver, a large man in a suit, beckoned Amber closer. She threw her companion a quick smile before sidling up the window and after a short exchanged, jumping into the car.

Alone again, Spencer leaned his head back against the wall and began humming to himself.

"That's an interesting tune," a female voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see a smiling blond woman with wide blue eyes.

"It's Beethoven's Fifth Symphony." Spencer explained, a faint smile flittering across his face. "I haven't seen you around here for a while… It's nice to have you back, JJ."

The blond smiled, "It's good to be back," she told him. "My husband and I had to go to Pennsylvania for a family emergency, otherwise I wouldn't have been gone so long." She started fishing around in her purse for a moment before pulling out a small handful of condoms. "If you need more let me know," she cautioned him as he took them and sighed.

"I'm good for now," he assured her.

"Alright…" she looked skeptical, but nodded. "Where's Amber and Damien?" she asked, looking around for two other prostitutes who were regulars at that corner.

"Amber's with a customer…" Spencer said, noticing the way JJ's face looked pained as he said that, but ignoring it. "And Damien…" he swallowed. "He was murdered while servicing a John a couple nights ago."

"What?" JJ's wide eyes got impossibly wider and her hand shook slightly as it covered her mouth and Spencer told her what had happened, explaining everything about the recent murders and what the police were now calling a serial killer.

"Oh my God…" the young woman shook her head, tears threatening to well over in her eyes. "Spencer… are you sure you're going to be alright out here on the street?" she asked, looking around the busy area as if the killer could be anywhere, watching them.

"I'll be fine." The young man assured her. "I… I have to make money somehow."

She sighed, shaking her head. "I really wish you'd let me help you more, Spencer. I might be able to get you a job or -"

"It never works out, JJ." Spencer cut the woman off. "You do enough for us out here as it is, giving us food and condoms and money… clean needles."

"Please don't tell me you need needles, Spencer," JJ said, looking worried for a moment. "You're one of the few who's managed not to fall into drugs out here."

"I can't afford to have a drug habit," Spencer assured her. "My mother comes first." JJ was one of the few people who knew about Spencer's mother; she'd even been to his house a few times to help him out.

"That reminds me, I was looking into some cheaper hospitals, and I -"

"Thanks, JJ, but I can't put my mother in a hospital. Not the way she is. She would hate to leave the house and… and there's no way I can afford to get her the kind of care she needs. Deserves."

She sighed, "You have my number if you ever need anything, right?"

"It's up here," Spencer said, tapping the side of his head and offering her a smile that never did reach his eyes. She sighed and returned his smile just as half-heartedly before checking her buzzing cell phone and sighing.

"It's Will, I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow, Spencer! Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I promise," Spencer said, knowing that there wasn't really much of a way for him to guarantee his own safety with the life he was living, but still feeling the obligation to offer the woman at least some form of hope to cling to.

"You'd better," she said, offering him another quick smile before signaling a cab and hurrying away to her husband and the normal, happy, safe life she had with him.

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><p><strong>EN: Free cookies for those of you who thought Prentiss and JJ would be the special guests! I simply couldn't resist putting them in the story. XD They probably (almost definitely) won't have very large roles in the fic, but still… they had to be included somehow.**

**Anyway, next chapter Morgan and Reid will finally (finally!) run into each other again, I think. And perhaps things'll go smoother this time, hmm? You'll see…**

**Don't forget to review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: XD You guys rock! Thank you so much for your amazing reviews and comments, I heart you!**

**Glad you enjoyed Prentiss and JJ last chapter :)**

**Onto chapter 7!**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; non-consensual sexual acts; sexual situations; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW! Pretty please? With some Morgan/Reid goodness sprinkled on top? LOL, that sounds even more perverted than it is…**

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><p><span>Ch. 7<span>

"The last victims were Damien Montgomery and Tristan Foley." Prentiss said, frowning down at the case files. "Damien was a twenty-one year old male prostitute, Tristan a local tax attorney, married with two kids." She chewed her lower lip and stuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Right, And before them was Melissa Underhill, aka Storme, and Michael Farmer. And before that, Ryan Kents, aka Magnus, and Nicholas Rodensky." Wells nodded.

"So… this guy's killing hookers and their Johns?" Bradley said, "We've established that."

"He's already killed two male prostitutes, only one female. Could that mean something?" Derek wondered aloud, never looking up from the photograph of Damien Montgomery. He looked a lot like Spencer except for his small blue eyes and dark black hair. He was tall and thin and willowy.

He shook his head. Now was_ not _the time to be thinking about Spencer. He hadn't seen the younger man in over two weeks, chances were he never would again, but somehow he found it incredibly difficult to push him from his mind.

"Maybe," Emily nodded, "Or… what if he's alternating?"

"Alternating?" Wells and Bradley asked at the same time, giving the brunette a confused look.

"The first murder was a male, the second a female, the third, male again. Maybe he's going from male to female."

"So what? We watch all the female prostitutes in the area until we catch him in the act or find another body?" Bradley asked, a frown on his face.

Emily rolled her eyes, "No, but it does help us predict what area he could be in. Vegas has areas that are more dense with male prostitutes than female, which is where both male bodies were found. And then there are areas that have more female prostitutes than others. It gives us somewhere to look."

Derek wasn't sure why, but knowing that the next victim would likely be a female made his stomach rebel a bit less at the thought of finding more bodies. He couldn't seem to close his eyes anymore without seeing Spencer's dead, broken body and wide, empty brown eyes staring at him.

"Don't they usually travel in packs?" Bradley asked.

"What?" Emily gave her partner a half angry, half confused look. "They do tend to stay in groups, yes, not 'packs', Bradley. They aren't animals for Christ's sake."

Bradley muttered something that sounded a lot like "Could've fooled me," and Derek felt the strong urge to punch the other officer, but Emily quickly continued before he had the chance.

"What's your point?"

"Maybe one of them saw something, ya know? The only time they're ever really alone is either on their way home or when they're with a John, and that's when they're getting shot."

"True…" Wells nodded. "Maybe we could speak to some of the other prostitutes in the areas where they were before they were killed. They might have seen something that could help us."

Emily nodded, pulling a folder with her and standing up. "That's a great idea…"

"How are we going to know who was with them though?" Derek asked, frowning up at the detective.

"Leave that to me. One of my college friends lives here in town; she works with a local outreach program trying to get young men and women off the streets. I'll talk to her and see if she knew any of the victims. If anyone can help us, she can." Emily explained, already scrolling through her contacts for her friend's number.

**~/.\~**

Spencer gasped as the man on top of him tangled rough hands in his hair and twisted, punctuating the movement with another calculated thrust forward into his pelvis.

They were in an awkward position in the back of the man's SUV, cramped and slightly uncomfortable, but the man was willing to pay so Spencer didn't complain. He lay back and took it, letting the man do whatever he wanted (within reason) and simply allowed his mind to wonder to other things.

His body was aching and sweaty and there were bruises on his hips from harsh hands gripping his body tightly. This man was the fifth 'customer' of the day, which fairly average for the young prostitute. Spencer could feel the man's thrusts getting more erratic, his larger body jerking and shaking slightly under the strain of his impending release.

He threw his head back suddenly when the man bit down harshly on the apex of his shoulder and neck and let out a scream as the man came violently, filling the condom with his seed.

Gasping and out of breath, he slid off of Spencer, who was blinking back the sudden onslaught of tears from the unexpected bite that was already beginning to bruise, but thankfully hadn't broken any skin. They didn't say anything to each other as Spencer fumbled awkwardly and pulled his clothes back on, leaning against the seat and catching his breath.

"You want me to drop you back off, right?" the man grunted as he climbed awkwardly over the center consol and settled back into the driver's seat.

"…yeah." Spencer breathed, opened his eyes again and nodded.

The man tugged his wallet out of his pants, accelerating and glancing back and forth quickly as they took off, driving down a few city blocks before coming back to the same street corner where he'd picked him up less than an hour earlier.

He passed Spencer a wad of cash which he promptly counted and shoved into his pocket before jumping out of the car and heading back to his usual spot. Amber was still there, leaning against the wall, and he was surprised to see the blond head of JJ standing there as well, talking quietly to her.

There were two other people with JJ this time, however. A tall brunette woman with a gun, which could only mean she was a cop. And Derek. Spencer cursed under his breath and considered turning around and walking in another direction, but he gritted his teeth and walked forward anyway.

This was his corner, after all. He wasn't about to let some cop scare him off. Even a cop who had been deceptively and suspiciously kind to him.

**~/.\~**

Derek stood with Detective Prentiss and a kind blond woman whose name was JJ talking to a young prostitute by the name of Amber. The kid couldn't have been much older than sixteen and it tore the cop's heart to see her out there selling her body because she didn't have a real home to go to or food to eat.

When Prentiss had said that her friend knew most of the prostitutes that worked the streets, he'd thought she'd been exaggerating, but she'd taken them - Wells and Bradley were now talking to a pair of Storme's friends a few blocks away - to talk to several known prostitutes in the past few hours and he was curious to know if she knew Spencer… maybe she could help him find the young man…

He killed that thought quickly and made himself focus on what Amber was telling them. Apparently, she'd been the last person to see him alive other than the John he was servicing and, of course, their killer.

The young girl was getting slightly emotional and he watched in awe and respect as JJ comforted her, her own eyes sad. She'd apparently known Damien very well, better than Storme, who she only knew in passing. She said that 'Magnus' must've have been relatively new because she'd never met him before.

As they were talking to Amber, Derek was looking around the street, slightly paranoid and wondering if the killer was somewhere out there. Staking out his next kill. The thought made him slightly furious as he considered that the teenager in front of him could be a target for the killer's gun.

He was slowly turning around in a full circle when he stopped suddenly and nearly lost his balance as a young, thin man who had just climbed out of an SUV made his way toward them with a small frown on his face.

"Spencer!" JJ greeted him as if they were old friends, which confirmed Derek's wonderings.

He offered the blond a brief smile, far more civil towards her than he had been to Derek. He said a soft hello to Amber, who still had the remnant of tears in her eyes and turned to Derek and Emily.

"Derek…" he greeted the man coolly, his lips pinching together slightly.

"You two know each other?" Emily asked. Derek could've slapped himself. Damn it. Now Emily was going to start thinking, and eventually she may even put two and two together and realize that Spencer was what had been distracting him recently. And then she would do what every woman did and jump to ridiculous conclusions about repressed sexuality and denied attractions and blah blah blahs that belonged in a depressing chick flick and not in real life.

"Briefly," Spencer answered for him. "What's going on?"

"…Detectives Prentiss and Morgan were just asking a few questions about… Damien." JJ explained carefully.

Spencer's face fell slightly, "Oh." He looked down at the ground for a moment and Derek had to resist the insane urge he suddenly had to give the younger man a hug and tell him it was going to okay. Even if it wasn't. Which, at the present time, it didn't seem to be.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, looking back up at them for a moment.

Derek started to answer, but found that his ability to speak seemed somehow impaired at the moment so Emily did instead.

"Do you remember the last time you saw Damien?"

Spencer nodded quickly, "Of course. It was eighty-four hours, fifteen minutes and forty-five seconds ago." He answered promptly. Derek and Emily blinked, at first thinking that the young man was messing with them. But his face was solemn and serious and JJ and Amber showed no hint of shock, surprise or confusion.

"…Well …" thrown a bit by the incredibly specific response, Emily had a little trouble remembering exactly what she had been about to say.

"What did you two talk about? Did you notice anyone… odd standing around? Anyone you hadn't seen before?"

"We were having a normal conversation. Talked about what we would do if we could… if we could change how our lives had turned out. Talked about family and friends and things we wanted to do and books we'd read before." Spencer shrugged, but Derek saw the pain and hurt and shame that filled those wide, somehow innocent brown eyes and it broke his heart.

"And then I left with a John and by the time I got back, Damien was gone and I decided to call it a night and get home." Spencer finished. "It was a typical night."

"Was it normal for you and Damien to go a few days without seeing each other?" Emily asked.

Spencer nodded, "Of course. This is our usual corner, but every now and then we move around, try to find new customers. And if it's slow in one area of the city, chances are, somewhere else it's pretty decent."

He seemed so completely blasé about what his life was, but again, Derek saw shame and hurt lingering behind those eyes, despite what Spencer did to try and conceal it. It made him wonder what could've happened to the kid to make him think he couldn't rely on other people for help and comfort. What person had hurt him so badly that he couldn't seem to trust… well, anyone.

They asked a few more questions, but were frustrated to realize that they had still come up with pretty much nothing. It was getting late and Amber and Spencer insisted that they had to leave.

Emily and JJ offered to walk Amber home. Spencer was already halfway down the street, Derek telling Emily that he would see her the next day before rushing to catch up with the slender young man.

"Spencer!" he reached out and grabbed his arm to get him to stop, causing the young man to turn around quickly, a half angry look on his face. Behind the anger, though, there was fear and Derek understood that all too well. He quickly released Spencer's arm and took a half-step back.

"What do you want?" Spencer asked, his words sounding a little bit _too _harsh to be believable.

"To talk to you, Spencer."

Spencer studied him for a moment, his eyes slightly narrowed before turning away.

"I'm going home." He announced.

"Wait! Spencer, please!" Derek jogged slightly and was easily able to catch up to the tall young man. "Just listen, alright? I really just want to talk to you. Help you if you'll let me."

"I don't need your help." Spencer muttered.

"C'mon, kid, that's obviously not true. Drop the act, please. I know you need help, you're just too scared to ask for it. I don't… I don't want anything from you. But, damn it, I can't stand to see you out here doing this when something tells me you could doing so much more."

Spencer turned to stare at him, never slowing his pace. For a moment, Derek thought maybe he would listen to him. "Why do you care?" he demanded, "It's my life, I screwed it up, it's not your problem."

His words were cutting and Derek wasn't sure who they hurt more: him or Spencer. But the pain behind those eyes told a story that words never could and once again he had to fight that urge to just wrap his arms protectively around the other man. What the hell was wrong with him lately?

He thought about Spencer's question, and realized… he had no answer. "I… I don't know."

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><p><strong>EN: AW :'( Poor Spencey… Poor Morgan… Poor Damien… Poor… everyone?**

**Damn me and my sick mind, lol.**

**Ok, so maybe Prentiss and JJ had slightly bigger parts than expected, and you'll likely see them again. Still, they don't have huge roles in the fic (sadly) but will likely have more of a … supporting role for Derek and Spencer.**

**So… maybe our favorite couple is getting somewhere, no? Could Spencer be ready to open himself up to Derek? Hmm… You'll find out in Chapter 8 I suppose!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I am so sorry for not updating yesterday! I had to make an unexpected trip to Georgia and didn't have internet! I'm so sorry!**

**Thanks so much for all of your fantastical reviews guys! I heart you XD**

**So, I sort of left you guys on a cliffhanger, huh? LOL… Sorry for that… Now, onto the next chapter!**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

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><p><span>Ch. 8<span>

Spencer stood there staring at Derek, people pushing past them on the street, ignoring them. Most of them shifted their eyes over Spencer like he was some unmentionable, untouchable stain on the face of their city and it seemed like Derek was the only one who noticed or cared.

"You don't know?" Spencer asked, finally breaking the silence that had seemed to stretch before them for an eternity.

At first, Derek wasn't sure he had heard the young man speak. Maybe it was a trick of the mind. But he looked down and sighed, "No, I don't, Spencer. I don't know why I care, but I do. I don't understand what it is about you that makes me want to help you, but I know I want to."

Spencer seemed to consider that for a moment. That small voice in the back of his mind was telling him that maybe this guy was genuine. Maybe he really did just want to help and wasn't expecting something in return for it. But that cynical voice in his head was louder, demanding to know just who would ever want to help someone like him.

"I don't need your help, I don't need your pity and I don't need your protection either. In case you haven't noticed, I can take care of myself." He said, his words sounding cold and a bit hateful. He desperately wanted to trust Derek, to believe that there were decent people out there who could help. But he couldn't allow himself to be hurt. He couldn't face that pain again.

Derek sighed, shaking head. "And what a fine job you're doing, huh?" he asked, some of the anger slipping into his voice. He was tired of this kid not trusting him. What had he ever done to him to make him dislike him? Tried to help him? Since when was that a crime?

Spencer's face looked stricken and he scowled. "You think I don't realize how incredibly fucked up my life is?" he snapped. "You think I actually _like _having to do this? You think I enjoy people using me as some sex object, not giving a damn about _me?_ That I somehow find some perverse pleasure in being seen as nothing more than a worthless piece of trash? Right, my life is just fucking brilliant, isn't it? I'm not stupid, Derek. I know how horrible my life is, I know what people think about me. And the remarkable thing is: I learned a long time ago that none of it matters because I'm stuck here and that's all there is to it."

Derek's reply was somber, guilt for what he'd said washing over him already. He hadn't meant it, but damn it the kid really couldn't get more stubborn, could he? "What if you didn't have to be stuck?" he asked.

Spencer blinked, angry tears fighting to spill over in his eyes as he got a better grip on his emotions.

"What?" he asked, frowning at him.

"I said, what if you didn't have to be stuck? What if you could get away from this life? Do something you actually want to do?"

Spencer's laugh was dark and bitter. "Right, and how exactly is that going to happen, officer? With your help?"

"Maybe." Derek said, stepping closer to him. Invading his personal space a little bit more than necessary. "I don't know. But you won't find out if you don't let me help you."

Spencer hesitated, slightly uncomfortable being that close to the other man. He took in Derek's entire demeanor, the determination and compassion in his eyes, the calm, careful set of his face, his easy, languid stance. That damnable optimistic voice in his head was shrieking _trust him!_ at full volume and beginning to drown out the other, cynical voice.

Not truly believing the words coming out of his mouth, Spencer sighed. "I… I _want _to trust you." He admitted. "But trust isn't something I can just give away."

Derek nodded slowly, understanding. "Alright, fine. Then help me earn your trust, Spencer. All I want is to help you."

Again, the younger man hesitated, unsure of what to do or why he was being so … willing to listen. He didn't like change, he wasn't comfortable allowing people to get close to him. It scared the hell out of him thinking that someone else could have the power to hurt him and abandon him. Like his father had.

Squashing the angry thoughts before they could bloom, he found himself nodding slowly, almost reluctantly. "…Alright." He sounded exasperated, his voice tired and his body exhausted. He realized he was worn out, sick of being hurt and untrusting, tired of not being able to be who he wanted, live how he wanted… But how was this one cop going to change any of that?

Derek smiled at him, a kind smile that made him a little less uneasy about accepting his offer. "Thank you…" he said quietly.

"Don't thank me yet," Spencer warned him. "You still don't have my trust."

The other man laughed gently and Spencer found it was nearly infectious, but resisted the urge to laugh himself. He couldn't allow himself to get too comfortable around Derek just yet.

"I guess I should start earning it then, shouldn't I?" he asked.

"I guess you should…" Spencer agreed, licking his lips gently.

"Alright…" Derek looked thoughtful. "I'm going to assume you need groceries, right?"

"I can buy my own -" he stopped when Derek raised a brow and frowned at him. Sighing, Spencer looked down and winced, hating to admit what he was about to say. "I… I suppose I am a little low on food."

Derek smiled softly at him and without really thinking, reached out and lifted the younger man's chin to get him to look back up at him. "A little?" he asked lightly. "Kid, you're skin and bones."

"I have a high metabolism," Spencer defended immediately. "And besides, I don't really eat much. I'm used to not eating a lot."

Derek frowned at that comment, "How long have you been doing this?" he asked.

Spencer grimaced, "A long time."

"Yeah, but… how long?" Derek pressed, his eyes narrow. God, Spencer couldn't be older than nineteen or twenty, how long could he have been selling his body to make a living? What could have made what he figured was a bright, highly intelligent young man turn to prostitution as a means of survival?

"It's been a few years," Spencer said, clearly not willing to divulge that information to him. Derek sighed, but decided that perhaps he would tell him when he had earned his trust later on down the road.

"Alright, fine." He said. "Look, tomorrow I'll take you to get some food. Pick out whatever you want and I'll pay for it. I think I'll at least feel a little better if I know you're eating."

Spencer sighed, "…You really don't have to -"

"Didn't we just cover this?"

Spencer made a face at him, wondering if maybe he should just forget about the cop and go on with his life as usual. He certainly didn't see any way for this man to help him 'change his life' that was for sure. "Fine." He muttered.

Smiling, Derek nodded. "Great. Where do you live? I'll pick you up in the morning."

"No!" Spencer protested quickly, prompting a raised eyebrow and confused look from Derek. "I mean… uh, I'll just meet you at the same corner you were talking to Amber at."

Frowning, Derek considered that. "You do have a home, right?" he asked slowly.

"Of course!"

"So why don't you want me to pick you up from your house?" Derek asked.

"I… It's complicated, alright?"

"You don't need to be embarrassed by anything, Spencer, really -"

"I'm not embarrassed," Spencer protested. "I just… would rather meet you at the corner, ok?"

Derek gave him a skeptical look, confused and concerned at the same time.

"Please?" Spencer asked, his voice sounding small. Derek sighed and nodded slowly.

"Alright, I'll meet you at the corner at … eight thirty?"

"…Ok." Spencer still seemed a little reluctant to agree to this, clearly unhappy accepting help from anyone, let alone Derek. But he couldn't rightfully ignore that annoyingly optimistic voice in his head and besides, it would be nice to have more food in the house, his mother had lost quite a bit more weight than she needed to recently and he was beginning to worry about her.

"Don't sound so depressed, kid." Derek said, "I'm not asking you to do anything except let me help you out a little."

"That's the problem." Spencer muttered. "I don't like asking for help."

"Well you didn't ask, I offered. And for once you didn't shut me out."

"Yeah… we'll see how long it lasts. Look, I've got to go. I'll see you in the morning, Derek."

Spencer didn't wait for a reply, turning and quickly making his way down the congested sidewalk. Derek watched him go, feeling a little bit better now that he could do something, even an incredibly small something, for the younger man. He wondered what Spencer was hiding from him at his house and was tempted to follow him, but decided respecting his boundaries was the best thing to do. For the moment.

* * *

><p><strong>EN: FINALLY! We're getting somewhere. Spencey decided to (reluctantly) let Derek help a little. Now let's see how far this trust thing can go, lol :D**

**Next up… shopping with Spencer and Derek. Should be interesting ;)**

**Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of your amazing reviews! I heart you guys! XD**

**And now, onto the Reid/Morgan shopping day experience… I wonder how well this is gonna go, lol :D**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p><span>Ch. 9<span>

Spencer arrived home to a distraught mother, shaking and beating her fists against the wall, tears running down her cheeks. Immediately, the young man raced over toward the hysterical woman.

"Mom… Mom calm down…" Spencer spoke quietly, stopping a few feet away from his mother. She was clearly still in the throws of an episode and whatever it was, it wasn't good. Swallowing thickly, the young man reached out only to be shoved violently back by her surprisingly strong hands.

"Mom, it's me. It's Spencer. Your son."

"Get away from me!" she screamed, naked, horrific fear in her eyes. "Get away!"

"Mom, it's Spencer." Spencer said, working to keep his voice under control as he stepped closer and reached out to grasp her shoulders, deftly deflecting another blow and trying to reign in her violent shakes.

Diana sobbed brokenly, still shaking and jerking, muttering under her breath. "It's alright, Mom, it's alright." Spencer whispered soothingly to her, trying to ease her out of the world in her head.

"They aren't real, Mom. Remember? It's just your imagination…" He started to rub gentle circles on her back and her breathing seemed to be slowing down, but suddenly she let out a shriek and shoved against his chest.

"Stop lying to me! Stay away from me!" she screamed, panting, her eyes wild and cagey.

Spencer pressed his lips together, a pang shooting through his chest. He hated seeing his mother like this. But he didn't have much of a choice. Moving carefully, Spencer edged his way out of the living room and into the kitchen, where he quickened his pace.

Reaching up to a small locked container on the top of the refrigerator, Spencer pulled it down and slid a tiny key into the lock, opening it up to reveal a handful of tranquilizers that he kept on hand and used in cases of emergencies like this. When he couldn't calm his mother down and she was going into a fit.

Lifting one of the small, pre-filled needles, Spencer shut the box and locked it back, sliding it back on its place above the fridge. He slowly made his way back into the living room where his mother was still muttering, calling out occasionally and crying. She didn't appear to have noticed him as he walked slowly toward her, careful not to move too quickly.

"Mom…" he said quietly, his voice soothing and even. "Mom, it's just Spencer, alright? I'm not going to hurt you…"

She let out a half broken sob, murmuring something about 'them' trying to take her baby away. Heart feeling torn, Spencer, with practiced movements, darted his hand forward quickly and easily stabbed the needle into the side of Diana's neck, depressing the plunger before she could react.

Jerking back, he barely missed her visceral reaction to the sudden sting of the needle, but the effect of the drug was almost instantaneous. Diana started to breath heavily, but slower than before and her screaming and muttering came to a slow stop. She sat there, panting, tears drying on her cheeks.

Her body was still shaking with the residual effects of her episode as Spencer took the seat beside her on the couch, wrapping a comforting arm around her.

She turned tired, bloodshot eyes up to him, no hint of a smile on her face. "Spencer?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"It's me, Mom." Spencer assured her, his voice still quiet and even despite how horrible he felt inside.

Diana looked at her son for a long moment, taking his free hand in hers and squeezing it. "I was worried about you, baby." She said finally.

"I'm fine, Mom." He assured her. "You didn't need to worry."

She smiled faintly at him, but the worry never left her eyes as she lifted her hand and put it against his cheek lightly. "Promise me you'll be careful, Spencer." She said, her eyes pleading with him.

Confused slightly, Spencer moved his hand to rest on his mother's, pulling it away from his face. "Of course, Mom. I'm always careful…"

"I know you are, baby, but I just have this feeling…"

"What feeling?" Spencer frowned at her, turning in his seat to look at her better.

"I don't know, I just… something bad is going to happen, Spencer. And I'm worried about you. Promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise." Spencer said, squeezing his mother's fingers back gently and meeting her eyes. She held his hand in a suddenly tight grip and didn't look away, her eyes boring into his as if she were trying to make sure he was indeed going to keep his promise.

"Thank you," she said, finally letting go of his hand and pulling her son into a hug. Spencer smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. At least his mother was back to herself now.

He made sure she ate and took her medication before going to bed. He showered, scrubbing himself raw once again in the shower before getting into bed. He sat there, re-reading The Lord of the Rings, trying to distract himself enough to fall asleep.

It was more difficult than it normally was, but eventually Spencer fell into a fitful sleep, his dreams revolving around a serial killer, his dead friend Damien and Derek. He had never believed in dream analysis or premonitions, but if he thought about it he'd say it was almost like his dreams were trying to warn him of something dangerous to come…

**~/.\~**

Derek got back to his apartment that night, his mind still reeling with questions that he wanted to ask Spencer. On his entire walk home he'd managed to come up with more and more things he wanted to know about the young man.

Why was he doing this? What had happened to make him so bitter? Why didn't he want him going to his home? Where was his family? Did he even have any family? What had he meant that night when he said there were more important things than eating? Why did he have this strange urge to protect and comfort the young man?

Alright, so perhaps that last question was directed internally… It still didn't lower Derek's curiosity. Or perhaps his confusion.

He had been managing well, until the last murder, getting Spencer out of his head. Now he couldn't seem to push him from his mind. At least he hadn't been having nightmares every night… of course, the last few weeks he still had nightmares every few days.

Derek pulled a beer out of his refrigerator and sank down onto his couch, kicking off his shoes and tossing his jacket aside. He took a long drink from the bottle before sitting it on the coffee table and just staring off into space.

Trying to get his mind off of Spencer, he let his mind wander within carefully constructed confines. He thought about Sara and Desiree and his mother and how much he missed them. About how Sara had just been promoted at work and Desi had just passed her final exam in her Philosophy class.

Inevitably, he thought of how much he missed them. How lonely he felt without being able to feel his mother's comforting arms around him or his sisters' snarky, lovingly sarcastic comments about his less than perfect love-life. He missed how much he laughed with them, even when he was feeling broken inside. He missed his mother smiling proudly at him when he made the winning touchdown in one of his football games…

He blinked, another face, one that he didn't miss at all, suddenly blooming forth in his thoughts like an angry, vengeful spirit. Derek snatched the beer off of the table and took several more long swallows, trying his hardest to drown those particular memories away again.

No matter how much he missed his mother and sisters, being in Chicago, being so close to _him_ and all the painful memories that he brought, was simply too hard for the cop anymore. He hated having to leave the city, his city, but there was nothing else he could think to do short of killing the man. And as tempting as that may be, Derek wasn't too keen on spending time in prison any time soon.

Before he'd even realized it, he had drained the entire bottle and contemplated grabbing a second. But Derek was smart enough to know a second beer in the mood he was in now would likely lead to a third, then a fourth. Possibly even a fifth if he kept thinking about Carl. And he didn't need to wake up hung-over in the morning.

Tossing the bottle in the trash, the detective stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed, closing his eyes and forcing himself to drift of to sleep, fighting off images of Carl Buford and a dead Spencer.

**~/.\~**

Derek glanced down at his watch with a small frown on his face. It was eight forty-five and Spencer still wasn't there. Granted, he was only fifteen minutes late, Amber had been there when he arrived and she said Spencer was usually there before she was. Worry was gnawing at his stomach as he fought against the insane urge to pace.

Amber had left with a John a few minutes earlier, despite how much Derek really wished she hadn't. He felt like a terrible person for allowing her to get into that car, especially considering she was so young, but stopping her wouldn't be possible without arresting her and he wasn't about to put the kid through that. He would just leave it to JJ to help get the girl off the street, back into school and where she belonged.

Just when he was about to let out a long string of curses and call the blond to demand Spencer's address, the lanky young man came running down the sidewalk, breathless. He was wearing another pair of tight jeans and a long-sleeved button up shirt that was hanging halfway open still, his long fingers fumbling with the buttons as he hurried apologized.

It was the first time Derek had ever seen Spencer without that "I don't give a shit" attitude, or that hard to look at kicked-puppy face he sometimes had. He looked out of breath and flustered, and he was talking so fast Derek didn't quite catch everything he said.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Derek, I… I overslept this morning, I had a long night last night and I didn't get to sleep like I should have -"

Derek held up his hands, waving them, "Kid, kid, calm down, alright? It's cool." He sounded far more calm now that he knew for a fact Spencer hadn't been in any danger. And there was no reason to admit that just moments ago he'd been on the verge of a mental meltdown because the younger man had been a little late.

He watched, slightly amused at the frown on Spencer's face, as he finished buttoning his shirt, but suddenly something caught his attention and without really thinking, Derek reached out and grabbed Spencer's wrist, stopping him.

"What the hell is that?" he demanded, his dark eyes fixated on a striking green-ish purple bruise on the junction between the young man's neck and shoulder. He was certain that bruise hadn't been there the night he had bathed him.

Spencer's hand slid quickly out of Derek's grasp and his fingers traced over the bite mark that he had studied with shame and self-loathing in the mirror that morning. "It's nothing, just a bruise."

"Nothing? Damn it, Spencer, that's not nothing."

"It comes with the territory, Officer." Spencer said, that semi-cold tone returning to his voice rather quickly. "Now are you going to stand around asking questions all day or are we going to go shopping, because I have other things I could be doing."

Derek bit down on his tongue to stop an irritated response to Spencer's angry remark. He knew it wasn't easy for the younger man, he could see the doubt and fear and anger all pressed together in his eyes, and he was trying his best to remember that.

He sighed and let his hand drop as Spencer finished buttoning his shirt. "Let's go then," he said, waving him down the sidewalk with him as they headed to where he had parked his SUV.

As they climbed in, Spencer shifted uncomfortably and frowned. "If you own a car, why do you walk to and from work every day?" he questioned.

"Because I like to…" Derek said slowly. "It's peaceful in the early morning and late at night. The air is cool, there aren't a lot of tourists around, and at night you can see nearly every neon light in the city all lit up. Besides, walking is good for you, clears your mind and gets your blood flowing."

Spencer considered that, nodding slowly but not saying anything else as they drove down the busy roads of Las Vegas. Every few minutes Derek would look over at him, sometimes catching him looking at him and they both looked away quickly. Most of the time though, Spencer was either staring out the window or fidgeting with his hands in his lap. Clearly, he was uncomfortable. Whether it was because he was in a car alone with him, or because he didn't like getting help from anyone, Derek was still sad to see it and wished there was something he could do to get Spencer to trust him sooner. To believe him when he said he didn't want anything from him, he simply wanted to help.

**~/.\~**

Shopping with Spencer was an interesting experience to say the least. The younger man had grown a little more comfortable around him since their quiet car ride, apparently. As they walked down the isles, Derek telling Spencer to grab whatever he wanted or needed, Spencer would suddenly fire off a random comment about wheat, or the consumption of sugar, or the first time frozen pizza was ever available.

Derek found himself trying not to laugh as the younger man stared almost longingly at a box of Trix cereal. "If you want it, put in the buggy, Spencer." He told him, leaning against the buggy and fighting the urge to roll his eyes as the Spencer smiled, hesitantly, and sat the box of cereal down with the few other items he had gotten.

It wasn't easy to get Spencer to grab anything without prompting first. The kid really was averse to truly accepting help, but Derek was not going to let him walk away empty handed from this trip, he didn't care how much it cost, Spencer was going to have food to eat at the very least.

They were walking down the next isle over when Spencer stopped and reached a hand out to a bag of chocolate donuts. He smiled slightly, talking more to himself than to Derek. "It's been so long since I've eaten these." He said. "They were my mo- my favorite." He quickly corrected what he'd been about to say and Derek frowned at him.

"Your… mom?" he asked, raising a brow. "That was what you were going to say, isn't it?"

Spencer ignored him, taking the bag and placing it in the cart before hurrying along down the isle. Derek sighed and had to job to catch up to him again.

"Spencer, how are you supposed to ever trust me if you don't answer any of my questions."

"I don't trust you, Derek." Spencer admitted bluntly. "Not yet. And I don't have to answer your questions."

Derek sighed, frowning at him. "That doesn't mean I can't ask."

"It's none of your business." Spencer said, not turning back to look at the other man. "You don't talk about your life, why should I be expected to talk about mine."

Derek winced, realizing that he did have a point there. "Fine. But I have told you a little about my life, Spencer. Remember, that morning you woke up in my apartment a few weeks ago."

Spencer stopped in the middle of the isle and looked down, his long curls falling forward into his face for a moment. "You mean about your father?" he asked, turning to face him again.

"Yeah, so, fair's fair. I told you something about my dad, tell me something about yours." Derek said, carefully. He was well aware that he could be crossing some invisible line, knowing nothing about Spencer's life it was entirely possible that Spencer's father had been abusive, which seemed to the case more often than not with prostitutes. Not that he assumed it was true for every one of them.

The younger man's eyes hardened at the mention of his father and Derek's worry only increased.

"My father?" he asked, his voice hard and bitter. "My father is one of the few people I truly hate in this world." He said angrily. "He abandoned me when I was ten and I haven't talked to him since, he's never tried to come back because he doesn't give a damn about me. That enough for you, Officer?"

His last few words were spat with such venom it made Derek almost flinch. Spencer spun around and stomped out of the isle, not even bothering to see if Derek was behind him or not.

Derek sighed, rushing to catch up to him again. He felt a pang of sadness stab his heart, along with guilt for even bringing the subject up, as he thought about what Spencer had just revealed to him. How could a father just walk away from their child like that? What the hell had Spencer's father been thinking? Maybe he hadn't been thinking…

Derek mulled over the new information Spencer had so vehemently given him and decided he was going to have to get the younger man write down a list of topics that would turn him into the same angry, bitter kid he remembered meeting in the dark alley all those weeks ago.

* * *

><p><strong>EN: Well, things are still semi-working out, right? You couldn't expect for there to not be bumps in the road of course. At least Spencer actually told him something personal this time… it's a step forward and a half-step back. Derek can fix this, right? LOL :)**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: *Grins* I seriously don't think I could love you guys any more if I tried! Thanks so much for all of your amazing reviews and all of your wonderful feedback! Thrilled that you like the story!**

**I know some of you are itching for Reid/Morgan romance, but it'll be a little bit before they actually get together as a couple, you have consider Morgan's past and Spencer's past… it's not going to be an easy ride for either of them, but trust me, it's coming!**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consesual sexual acts; language; prostitution**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p><span>Ch. 10<span>

"Is this all?" Derek asked, looking into the sparsely filled shopping cart with a small frown on his face. Ever since Spencer had gotten angry earlier, he hadn't really said much. He had all but stopped his spouting of random facts for the morning and had grown far quieter, more distant.

"Yeah. I told you, Derek, I don't eat much." Spencer told him, not quite meeting his eyes as he turned to face the older man. Derek sighed, nodding. "Alright fine. Let's go pay for this and get going."

Spencer didn't react other than to offer the man a small nod. He followed him toward the registers and stood awkwardly in line behind him. Derek noticed that he kept his eyes pointed towards the floor when people passed by and he refused to make full eye contact.

He watched the younger man closely while the groceries were rung up. He seemed completely out of his element here, doing everything he possibly could to remain invisible to the other patrons of the store. Derek was surprised at the startling contrast between this Spencer and the Spencer who stood out of the streets of Vegas day after day, night after night.

"Sir?" the young girl working the register caught his attention suddenly and he blinked out of his thoughts, hurrying forward and quickly paying for the few bags of food he'd managed to talk Spencer into letting him buy.

"Thank you," the girl smiled at him, handing him the receipt and change. "Have a nice day…" she sent him a flirtatious wink and he smiled tensely back at her before motioning for Spencer to follow him.

"So, where am I dropping these off?" Derek asked, taking the bags out of the buggy and loading them into the back of his SUV.

"Oh… um, I'll, I'll just walk home from here. You've probably got other things to do and –"

"Spencer, come on, seriously?" Derek frowned, leaning against the SUV and frowning at him. "You didn't want me to pick you up at your house this morning, and I agreed. But this is ridiculous. You can't walk all the way home carrying groceries."

The younger man shifted slightly, frowning at him. "I don't mind, honestly. I'm sure you could be working on that case you were asking about yesterday. Besides, I walk almost everywhere, I'm used to it."

Derek shook his head. "I'm not going to let you walk home toting these groceries, Spencer. Get in and tell me where to go."

Spencer's face looked pained as he stared at Derek, almost silently pleading with him. It was clear that he didn't want Derek to go to his house, but there wasn't any way to get around the necessity of it.

Slowly, Spencer made his way back around to the passenger seat and slid in, looking uncomfortable once again. Derek let out a long sigh, wishing he could pinpoint these strange mood swings of his. What on earth could be so bad about his house that he didn't want him going there at all?

**~/.\~**

The drive had been, as expected, a fairly silent one. Other than Spencer giving Derek directions occasionally and telling him when and where to turn. Derek attempted to talk to the young man several times, but Spencer shot him down with short, curt answers. Or by simply not replying at all.

Derek had to grit his teeth and remind himself that at least he was trusting him now. Sort of, at least. They may have taken a small step backwards, but Derek was sure that given time, Spencer would come to trust him at least as much as he trusted JJ, which appeared to be quite a lot.

"Here it is," Spencer said suddenly, pointing to a short driveway in front of small suburban home.

Derek frowned, pulling in and putting the car in park. "This is where you live?" he asked, turning skeptical eyes toward Spencer.

Spencer frowned, "Yes." He said curtly. "Why is that so surprising?"

"…Oh, no I didn't mean it like that!" Derek said quickly, jumping out of the SUV to help him get the bags of groceries and carry them inside. "I just…"

"Never expected a prostitute to live in a suburban neighborhood?" Spencer asked, raising a brow as he snatched on of the grocery bags from the back seat.

"No… I mean, what I meant to say was that I'm surprised because it seemed like you were embarrassed and –"

"I told you I wasn't. I'm not." Spencer said, frowning before reaching forward and trying to take the bags Derek held in his hands from him. "And I can carry these in by myself. Thank you for buying everything."

Derek frowned, not loosening his grip on the plastic bags. "Not embarrassed? Well then what are you hiding? Because you clearly don't want me to go inside."

"No I don't." Spencer said, his tone harsh. "Now give me the bags please and I'll carry them inside."

"We could both take them inside in one trip, Spencer. You'd have to make two. Doesn't it make more sense for us to both carry some bags in instead of you walking back and to?"

Spencer frowned, "Logically, I suppose." He admitted through tight lips.

"Well, then stop arguing with me."

"But just because something is logical, doesn't mean it's right." Spencer quickly added. "You can use logic to justify almost anything if you know how. It's simply a matter of making a sound argument."

Derek frowned, "Well unless you can give me a 'sound argument' about why I shouldn't help you take these bags in, I'm going to help."

"…" Spencer stood there, clearly trying very hard to come up with something to say, some argument that would send him away. And Derek couldn't help but wonder: why? What was so terrible that he didn't want the other man in his home? What could he possibly want to keep from him?

Just as he started to tell Spencer to give up and just admit that he was right, his cell phone buzzed on his hip and he sighed.

"Morgan," he answered tersely, well aware of Spencer relieved sigh once he turned away from him.

_"Another body was just called in." _It was Wells on the other end of the line, sounding exasperated and angry.

"Already?" Derek frowned. "But it hasn't even been a full week since the last murder. This guy usually waits about two and a half weeks."

_"Yeah, well, usually ain't cutting it any more, apparently." _Wells said, _"A female prostitute and her John were found dead just off the Strip an hour ago. Prentiss and Bradley are on their way over to meet us there."_

Derek sighed, nodding to himself. "Alright, I'm on my way." He assured the other man before hanging up. He turned back to Spencer, still clutching the grocery bags with a frown on his face. "That was my partner," he explained. "I –"

"Have to go to work? I figured as much." Spencer said, quickly tugging the bags out of Derek's hands. "I can manage by myself. Thanks for everything you've done, Derek." For a second, Spencer's face softened. "Really." He said, a faint smile twisting his lips.

The officer frowned, "I have time to help you –"

"No, I could ask you to waste time helping me when you've got far more important things to be doing."

"Spencer –"

"You're wasting time right now, Derek." Spencer said pointedly, eyeing the SUV. Derek sighed, frowning at him but ultimately deciding to let him win this one. He would eventually get inside that house one way or another.

"Alright, fine. But if I don't see you around any time soon, I'll stop by and check on you, alright?"

Spencer made a face, "Derek, seriously, you don't need to do that. I'll be fine by myself."

"Nothing you can say is going to change my mind, Spencer." Derek said, climbing into his SUV. "Just go with it."

Spencer smirked slightly at the smug look on Derek's face as he drove off, before lugging the groceries inside. He had to leave a few bags out in the driveway and come back for them, but he didn't mind because he'd managed to keep the other man from coming inside. And if he could keep things like that he'd be an incredibly happy man.

"Spencer…" his mother came into the kitchen as he was putting away the groceries. "Who was that man outside who dropped you off?" she asked, frowning slightly. "And why are you home so early?"

Spencer looked up surprised by her sudden appearance and not quite willing to answer the questions. "Oh… um, I'm on my lunch break, Mom. I asked Derek to drop me off and bought a few groceries before coming home. I have to go back to work in a couple of hours."

She pressed her lips together, her eyes narrowing at her son as she scrutinized him. "You're not telling me something Spencer…" she said slowly.

"Mom…"

"If you don't want to tell me, Spencer, you don't have to." She continued. "But I know when you're lying. I always know."

He smiled slightly, shaking his head. "Ok, Mom. I'm sorry." He told her, putting away food under her watchful eyes. His hand fell on the bag of donuts and he smiled. "I got something special for you, Mom…" he said suddenly, turning to face her again.

She blinked, surprised. "What is it, Spencer?" she asked.

He smiled at her and held up the bag of donuts, watching her eyes light up as she grinned at him. "I haven't eaten these in years…" she said, taking the bag from her son.

"I know, I figured that you would like to have them again." Spencer told her.

She smiled at him, wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you, baby." She said. "…As long as you didn't sacrifice something for these…" She studied him again, a suspicious glint in her eyes.

"No, nothing, I promise."

This time, Diana believed him, nodding to herself and opening the bag quickly. "Good. Because I don't like you going without things just to make me happy." She told him. "It's not right."

He felt a small pang of guilt, knowing how terrible she would feel if she knew just how much he had sacrificed for her wellbeing and sanity, but he would continue to do it, because he loved her and they wouldn't be able to survive if he didn't.

He watched her eat her donuts with a small smile on his face, content in the brief moment of lucidity and happiness that they were so rarely able to share.

**~/.\~**

Derek and Wells arrived at the scene just behind Prentiss and Bradley and ducked under the crime scene tape to find CSIs snapping away photographs and marking evidence. On the ground before them lay a young woman, probably twenty-five at the most, with matted brown curls and empty blue eyes, wearing a tattered red dress hiked up around her hips.

And next to her was a middle-aged man wearing a suit, his jacket crumpled on the ground, tie undone, and his shirt halfway unbuttoned. Blood pooled between the two bodies and Derek felt the strong urge to puke hit him again. He had to mentally berate himself for being happy to not see a familiar face down there, but he was glad it wasn't Spencer. Or Amber.

Still, the fact remained that eight lives had now been taken by their murderer in two and a half months and something needed to be done to stop him from taking more.

"Any ID?" Derek asked as Bradley knelt next to the body, talking to the coroner for a brief moment.

"He had a wallet in his jacket," Prentiss said, pointing toward the crumpled pile of fabric. "His name was Vincent Carroll, he's a business rep from New York here on some company conference."

Derek shook his head, feeling less sympathy for him than he did for the young woman beside him. Though he hated to admit that there probably weren't many who would agree with him on that matter.

"What about her?" he asked.

"A few locals ID'd her as Shanelle," Emily said. "We're working on getting something more to go on. Her prints are probably in the system, but she didn't have an ID on her."

Derek nodded thoughtfully.

"Same MO as before?" Wells asked, kneeling beside Shanelle's body.

"To the T," Bradley said, "Both victims were shot twice while in the middle of their, uh… transaction."

Emily scowled at him, hitting him with her notebook. "They were ambushed and attacked, same as the others. He's probably following them from their corners to wherever they decide to go."

"But they're always out in the open, never in a car of hotel room."

"So maybe he kills them when he follows a pair who go to an alley…" Wells suggested. "So he watches and waits patiently for the perfect moment and opportunity to kill them."

Derek frowned, shaking his head. "What does he think he's accomplishing with this?" he muttered.

"Maybe he thinks he's cleaning up the streets; getting the hookers out of the city, you know?" Bradley suggested.

Prentiss smacked him again, a frown on her face. "Whatever his reason is, he's a sick bastard who's taking innocent lives and we've got to stop him."

* * *

><p><strong>EN: Hmm, interesting… Another dead prostitute so quickly. Uh oh, this guy's moving faster…**

**I think I'll do some another scene with Reid and JJ in the next chapter if I can squeeze it in… and hopefully there'll be more Reid/Morgan time as well, they certainly need 'bonding time' LOL**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thanks for all of your amazing reviews! I heart you guys! You rock!**

**And now, onto some more brilliant Morgan/Reid goodness… brilliant because hopefully the two of them will see the freakin' light sometime soon, lol**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; language; prostitution**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p><span>Ch. 11<span>

Spencer's head wasn't really functioning properly for the next few of days. He thought about Derek far more than he should, and let several Johns pass by. He had barely earned three hundred dollars in three days and he knew his mother's prescription needed to be filled the following week. But he couldn't seem to focus properly on anything except worrying about when Derek would decide to drop by his house.

"Jeesh, Spence, what's with you?" Amber asked when he completely turned down a guy in a black minivan.

"I'm a little off tonight…" Spencer said, glancing up at the neon signs standing tall above the low standing buildings around them.

"A little off?" Amber scoffed. "Spencer, come on, you're turning down every other John. You sick or something?"

"I'm fine," Spencer assured the girl. "I just… I've got a lot on my mind right now." He frowned, staring up at the dark sky for a moment and wondering how honest he was being with himself. Likely not very. But he didn't care.

Amber shook her head, eyeing him with concern but not saying anything else. If Spencer wanted to talk, he would talk. Usually, he didn't want to talk, she'd learned that early on in their friendship. Personal matters were completely off-limits unless brought up directly by him. Of course, she didn't blame him, she was the same way.

She slumped against the wall, her clothes already feeling dirty and gross after three customers, but she ignored it. It was a warm night and she closed her eyes for a moment, thinking hard about being somewhere far away, maybe a beach with no one else around, the brilliant white sand leading the way to cool, blue waters.

"Hey beautiful, miss me?"

Spencer jerked out of his own pensive state by a familiar voice and he spun around, forgetting all about Amber, who was watching with a tiny ounce of fear and curiosity.

Spencer found himself staring back into the dark eyes of the man who had raped him those few weeks ago. He swallowed and stumbled back instinctually. His heart kicked into overdrive as memories from that night flashed through his mind rapidly and he fought to keep himself upright.

"Are you on duty now?" the man leaned against the wall beside him and smirked, that same malicious glint in his eyes as stared at him.

Spencer's throat felt tight and he pressed his lips together in a thin line, "No." he said, his voice sounding hard. "Not for you."

He feigned a look of hurt. "C'mon, beautiful, you can't hold that against me. I just wanted a ride and you wouldn't let me pay you for it, so… I took it."

"What?" Amber suddenly spoke up, her copper eyes narrowing slightly as she looked from the man to her friend. "He raped you, Spencer?"

"Rape is such a negative word," the man said, still smirking slightly. "I saw something I wanted and I took it…"

Amber scowled at him, "You're disgusting." She muttered.

The man shrugged and slid a few inches closer to Spencer, "So what'll it be, beautiful? I'll pay you this time…"

"Not going to happen," Reid said, a harshness entering his voice that Amber recognized as what happened when he entirely shut off his emotions and put up that 'I don't give a shit' shield of his.

The man looked disappointed, "You don't want a repeat of the last time, do you?" he demanded.

"There won't be a repeat." Spencer said. "Because if you even try anything, I'll call the cops."

The man snorted, "What are they going to do? They don't give a shit about some poor little prostitute who got raped, if that's even what you can call it considering I didn't do anything to you that hasn't already been done."

Spencer scowled at him, hearing Amber growl something under her breath at the man. "True… but most prostitutes aren't personally acquainted with a homicide detective either."

The man snorted, "Homicide detective?" he said, raising a brow. "What's his name then?"

"Derek Morgan…" Spencer answered, his gaze never wavering from the man's. "You can call him and talk to him if you wanted to…"

The man's sarcastic frown turned into confusion and surprise. "Maybe I'll do that…" the man said. He turned and hurried down the sidewalk before Spencer or Amber could say anything else to him and Spencer's brows knitted in confusion.

He hadn't really wanted to mention Derek's name, but he couldn't stand the idea of that man being anywhere near him again after what he had done and he was fairly certain Derek would gladly arrest him if he had the chance. The young man blinked, surprised at his own thoughts. Why was he so certain Derek would arrest the bastard? Maybe he would simply ignore it like most other people would.

But he remembered the look on Derek's face back in his apartment that morning when they'd talked, briefly. There had been genuine concern and worry in his eyes. Maybe he was legitimate. His mind seemed to think so at least.

"Why didn't you tell me you were… that someone attacked you?" Amber demanded her copper eyes round and filled with anger and worry.

"Because it's not a big deal, Amber." Spencer said, turning to face the road once again. "I can handle it."

"You can handle it?" Amber scowled at her friend. "Spencer, that's a lie and you know it! You should have gone to the police! Jesus, Spencer, are you insane?"

"I told you, I'm fine. Besides, you and I both know he's right. The police wouldn't do a damn thing about it."

"Spencer…" Amber frowned. "What about Derek then? You told him you'd call Derek just then. Why not tell him, maybe he can help."

"Derek knows." Spencer said, frowning. "I asked him not to report anything. I don't need the trouble, Amber. It's not like I'm not used to it."

"Spencer!" Amber looked surprised at her friend and shook her head. "Selling yourself is one thing, and I'm barely able to accept that, but letting some greasy bastard rape you and not even reporting it is crossing the line!"

Spencer shook his head, quickly heading toward a dark blue town car as it pulled up and the driver beckoned him forward.

He slid in without a word, anything to get away from Amber and the horrifying flashbacks that were threatening to overwhelm his mind.

**~/.\~**

Derek dropped his jacket on the table right inside his front door and slumped against the wall. Three whole days. Three days and they had come up with absolutely nothing. It was infuriating to know that somewhere out there in Las Vegas there was a murderer, and yet they had next to nothing to go on to find the bastard.

This was by far the most difficult case Derek had ever worked and he was starting to get incredibly aggravated. Not to mention the nagging little voice in the back of his mind that constantly reminded him of Spencer and the danger the young man was in just by earning a living every day and night.

He walked into the kitchen and glanced at the clock on the stove. It wasn't all that late and he had meant to go by Spencer's house the day before, but hadn't been able to having been swamped with work.

He didn't think about it too long before he decided that he would keep his promise to the younger man and check up on, if only for his own peace of mind and the satisfy that lingering curiosity he still had about what exactly could be in that house that Spencer wanted to keep from him.

**~/.\~**

Spencer stared out the window of the car for a moment as they drove into the parking lot of the motel across the street. So he was going to be one of those customers. Spencer was grateful that at least it meant he had a bed instead of a cramped car seat or the cold concrete.

"How much?" the man spoke for the first time and Spencer frowned, that voice sounding familiar in an unpleasant sort of way. He turned to face the driver for the first time and nearly felt his heart stop when he recognized the older man sitting in the driver's seat.

He stared opened mouthed for several moments, unsure of what to do, or how to react. He was staring into a pair of colder than should be possible hazel eyes. The same color as his own.

He was staring at his father.

William Reid obviously did not recognize his son. Why would he? It had been nearly ten years since he'd laid eyes on the boy after all and how could he have ever expected for him to end like this anyway?

"I…"

"Are you okay, kid?" William asked, raising a brow at his son.

"I can't do this…" Spencer's hand went to the door handle, fully prepared to jump out of the car and make a run for it, give his mind time to think and stop spinning around drunkenly.

William reached out and grabbed his wrist, "Come on, kid, I won't hurt you, I promise. I'll be gentle."

Spencer's stomach nearly spewed its contents at those words coming out of his father's mouth and he stared pleadingly into those eyes. "You don't understand…" he said, shaking his head and trying to tug his hand from William's grasp. "I really can't do this."

"I swear, I won't do anything to hurt you, kid." William promised him, trying to give him a reassuring smile that only helped to increase Spence's desperate need to get out of the car and run.

"No… I really… I can't."

"I'll pay you twice whatever you usually get, kid."

"Get someone else, please…" Spencer insisted. "I really cannot do this with you…"

"I don't want someone else, I want you. You've got one of the prettiest faces I've ever seen…"

Spencer really did gag then, causing William to frown in confusion. "Seriously, I just can't do this, I'm sorry!" Spencer had the door opened, but William was still holding onto his free wrist rather tightly.

"Let go of me, Dad!" Spencer said, not thinking as the word 'dad' slipped passed his lips. He froze, his eyes wide in terror as William blinked in shock.

He didn't dare move as the other man took a moment to study the younger man carefully, his eyes widening in shock and understanding all at once.

"Spencer?"

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><p><strong>EN: Sorry I didn't get to the JJ and Spencer scene, it'll definitely be in the next chapter guys!**

**And I suppose I should apologize for leaving you on a cliffhanger as well, but things are going to start moving along soon in a more Morgan/Reid direction sort of anyway... you'll see :)**

**Hope you enjoyed it! **

**Don't forget to review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: *evil grin* You guys are amazing! I seriously love you right now! Thanks so much for all of your fantastic reviews! They mean the world to me!**

**I know, I know… *bad author* I left you with a cliffy… and a bad one too. *sighs* I couldn't help it, it was so damn tempting and … you just have to understand how very difficult it would be to pass up an opportunity like that… *hangs head in shame* …Forgive me? … please?**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consesual sexual acts; language; prostitution…**

**Oh, and I should probably warn you guys: I hate William Reid with a fiery passion… that's all**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

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><p><span>Ch.12<span>

"Spencer?" William gaped at the young man sitting frozen in the passenger seat of his car. "I… Is that really you?"

Spencer licked his lips nervously. For years he'd been trying, unsuccessfully, to work up the nerve to talk to his father. To tell him exactly what he thought of him and just how much he hated him for all that he had left him to deal with, for putting the weight of the world on his young shoulders. And now that he had the opportunity, he simply couldn't bring himself to speak.

He nodded numbly, swallowing hard and staring wearily into those eerily similar and yet so incredibly alien eyes.

"B-But I don't understand…" William looked completely confused. "How did this happen, Spencer?"

The young man finally found his voice again, though it cracked slightly as he spoke. "How did this happen?" he demanded, feeling more hurt and angry than he ever remembered feeling before. Except maybe for the day that his father had actually abandoned him.

"What do you mean how this happen?" his voice rose in pitch as it broke even more. "You left! You abandoned me with Mom, I was only ten, what else was I supposed to do?" Angry, bitter tears were burning behind his eyes but he refused to cry in front of this man.

"Not this!" William said, and Spencer realized that William looked angry himself. What the fuck did he have to be angry about; his life wasn't the one he'd screwed up.

"There wasn't anything else for me to do!" Spencer shot back, his brows creasing over his eyes darkly as he glared at the man, ten years of pent up anger and frustration starting to swell and spew forth in his chest. "I wasn't exactly old enough to get a job and pay for the bills you left us with."

"Your mother had a job," William defended, his eyes darkened as well as he glared at his son. He was only making Spencer angrier.

"She couldn't work there forever!" Spencer snapped. "She had more episodes after you left, the doctor had to increase her dosage and she was forced to leave her job. You never even paid child support, how was she supposed to pay the bills taking her prescription and not having a job?" Spencer demanded his voice harsh and bitter.

"Are you telling me Diana encouraged this… this disgusting, filthy –"

"Disgusting?" Spencer snapped, "You were just begging me to let you fuck me!" he snapped. "And Mom doesn't know about it. She'd be horrified, but I don't have much of a choice."

"There is always a choice. You were a smart kid, Spencer! You could've done anything with your life and you're doing this?"

"I could've done anything with my life if I'd had the money to make sure Mom was taken care of while I was away at college, sure." Spencer snapped. "But considering that my 'father' left me with no way to support my mother, I didn't want to abandon her like he did us."

William frowned, "It's not my fault you made the choices that you made," he said. "You cannot blame me for your mistakes!"

"You're right," Spencer said, his voice shaking as he wrenched his hand out the man's grasp finally. "But sure as hell can blame you for yours. And I wouldn't have had to choose between keeping my dignity and starving or eating and selling my body if you hadn't decided you didn't want to be a father anymore."

"That is not what happened, Spencer!" William snapped. "I –"

"I don't give a shit." Spencer growled, fighting to keep his voice from breaking again, those stupid tears trying to give away how much he was hurting at the moment. "I was better off without you anyway." He snapped, jumping out of the car without another word and slamming the door behind with a thundering bang.

Before William could even get his seatbelt off, his son was running down the street, angry tears finally spilling down his cheeks as he made toward his house.

**~/.\~**

Spencer flung the front door open and practically ran into the house, grateful that his mother was already asleep upstairs as he went into the kitchen, sobs threatening to shake his entire body. He pulled the phone off the hook and felt his knees give way beneath him as he slid down the floor.

He didn't know why, but he knew he needed to talk to someone and right then there was only one someone who he trusted enough to talk to about this, so his fingers dialed the number without him even thinking and he held the phone against his hear, trying to quiet his sobs.

_"Hello?" _a cheerful female voice answered the phone and he sighed, feeling a little bit better once he heard her voice.

"JJ…" his voice shook as he spoke, taking a ragged breath to make the angry sobs go away. What had he expected from a conversation with his father? There was clearly not a happy reunion in his future… He hated that some part of him had always hoped that William would feel guilty for what had become of his only child and he would want to help him. Maybe that was why Spencer had never worked up the nerve to talk to his father. As long as he didn't face him, he could still harbor that small hope that someone could make it all better.

_"Spencer? What's wrong? What happened? Are you alright?" _The blond woman immediately began asking questions, concern coloring her tone and Spencer felt that sense of hope return in a small dose as he realized that at least one person actually cared about him. Well, besides his mother at least.

"I- I'm alright, I just… I needed to talk to someone." Spencer said, his voice still shaking, though he had thankfully gotten a grip on his sobs. Now if he could just stop these damn tears that were spilling from his eyes and making his nose stuffy and runny.

_"I'm always here, Spence." _JJ assured him. _"What do you need to talk to me about?"_

"I… tonight I was out working with Amber… And, I got in the car with a John…"

_"Spencer? Are you ok?" _JJ sounded worried. _"Did he hurt you? What happened?"_

"I'm not hurt, no." Spencer promised her. "But… I knew this man."

_"Knew him how?" _JJ asked, her frown clear even over the phone as she tried to understand what had upset the young man so much that he would call her at home in the middle of the night.

Spencer swallowed, his throat feeling constricted again as he took a breath and forced himself to say those words, a jumbled rush that JJ barely understood. "He was my dad…"

After a short pause, JJ understood what Spencer had said and she gasped. _"Oh… God… Are… did you two talk? Are you gonna be alright?"_

"We didn't exactly talk…" Spencer said slowly. "We argued. I got angry and left, I couldn't listen to him talking any more…"

JJ felt a pang of sadness hit her. She knew Spencer had always wanted to talk to his father again, had hoped that maybe one day they could forge a real father/son relationship and William would help him get off the streets for good. It couldn't be easy to have all of those hopes shattered in one short moment.

_"Oh Spence…" _she hesitated, not even sure what she was supposed to say to something like that. _"Do you need anything? I can go by your house if you want me to. Keep you company."_

Spencer shook his head over the phone, swallowing thickly, "No, I'll be alright, I just wanted to talk to someone. I… I thought I was going to explode if I didn't."

The blond woman sighed, _"I know that was hard for you to go through, Spence. I really don't mind coming over for a little while, tomorrow if not right now. I –"_

"You've already done so much, JJ." Spencer told her. "I can't ask you to do anything else; I'll be alright, I just need some time to… to take everything all in. I think I'm in shock right now."

_"I don't mind, Spencer." _JJ said worriedly. _"You don't have to ask, I'll do it gladly."_

"I know, JJ." Spencer said, a faint smile touching his lips even as tears still slowly fell from his eyes. "But I'll be alright. I just needed to get it out…"

_"Promise me you'll call if I can do anything, alright?"_

"I promise, JJ. And thank you. For listening… for caring… for everything."

_"It's nothing Spencer…"_ JJ assured him.

Spencer could help but think that it was amazing that she really believed what she was doing to help him and the others on the streets was nothing. She didn't realize just how much she meant to so many of them, didn't even know how important she was to them and how lost they would be without her there to show them the way.

He hung up and leaned his head against the cabinets, closing his eyes and letting the tears leak out slowly, gentle sobs shaking his shoulders every few moments as he thought about his dad and all the hope that had been snatched away from him.

**~/.\~**

Derek breathed a relieved sigh as he finally pulled into Spencer's driveway. He had gotten lost for a little while, making a wrong turn somewhere. Even after all the months he'd been in Vegas he still hadn't quite learned its streets and maneuvering them was a bit more difficult than getting around Chicago. Though not by much.

The lights were still on in the house so he figured that at least meant Spencer was home and awake. He slid out of the SUV, careful not to slam the door, and made his way up the driveway. He paused at the door, suddenly unsure of knocking on the door. He knew for a fact that Spencer wouldn't be thrilled to see him there, but in the end he decided to do it. How else was he going to prove to the younger man that he could trust him?

He knocked on the door, taking a step back and waiting, trying to be patient as thirty seconds turned into a minute. He knocked again, louder this time and he didn't let up. Soon, he heard a loud swear and chuckled as hurried feet raced to wrench the door open.

"Wh- What the hell are you doing here?" Spencer demanded angrily once he saw who it was. Derek wasn't really paying attention to his words though… The younger man's eyes were dark and swollen and there were still tears in his eyes, slowly making their way down his cheeks.

He gaped at him, worry flaring down in his chest that he hadn't expected. "Are you alright?" he asked slowly.

Spencer looked confused for a moment, then he remembered that he was crying and scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to erase the evidence of his emotional turmoil unsuccessfully and too late to change Derek's mind.

"You didn't answer my question." Spencer said stubbornly.

"And you didn't answer mine." Derek pointed out just as stubbornly, folding his arms over his chest and studying the obviously hurting young man.

Spencer tried to stare him down, tried to put that shield he used back up, but for some reason he didn't care to understand, it just wouldn't happen and he sighed, looking away and staring down at the ground.

"I… No, I'm not. But I can handle myself, Derek. Now what are you doing here?"

"I told you that I was going to come and check up on you. And it looks like I got here just in time, didn't I?" he asked. Reid started to say something else, but Derek was quickly shouldering his way inside, well aware that Spencer wouldn't willingly let him in his house.

"What are you doing?" Spencer was quick to follow him inside, shutting the door quietly so that he didn't wake his mother, who was still sleeping upstairs. "I didn't say you could come in!"

"And you never would if I didn't force my way in, Spencer. Listen to me; you need to trust me, alright? I'm not here to hurt you, to make life harder for you. I want to help you, and you've got to trust me and let me help you. I know how hard trusting someone is, believe me, but I would never do anything to hurt you, not on purpose."

Spencer was silent during Derek's little speech, watching the older man's face and finding a small part of his heart wanting, desperately, to believe him. To put his unwavering trust in someone for the first time since he was ten years old. But he simply couldn't take that leap of faith just yet. A little bit of trust was all Derek was going to get for now.

He shrugged and turned away, walking into the living room, knowing that Derek would follow him no matter where he went… except maybe the bathroom.

"What happened, kid?" Derek asked gently, taking a seat on the couch when Spencer sat in a chair and drew his knees up to his chest. Derek realized how incredibly young and vulnerable he looked like that, he hadn't really thought much about it before, but Spencer was probably about five or six years younger than he was. That could make him as young as eighteen and he didn't like the idea, suddenly. He was far too young to have this weight on his shoulders like that.

"Nothing." Spencer replied curtly, reminding Derek very much of the first couple of conversations they'd had. Their conversation had become somewhat civilized recently, but he understood that Spencer was hurting inside and whatever the reason, he probably didn't want to have to deal with him right then.

"It's not nothing, Spencer." Derek pressed, shaking his head. "Please, trust me. Talk to me, ok? Talking things out always helps."

"I know that," Spencer snapped, frowning at the floor rather than meeting Derek's eyes. He did _not _want this man in his house. Ever. And yet there he sat, across from him in his living room, prying into things that ought to be left alone and forgotten.

"So talk to me, please. I'm not leaving until you do." He added as an afterthought, realizing that Spencer probably wanted him out of the house immediately. He still didn't understand why, as far as he could tell the house was in decent shape, clean and taken care of. A little small, but nothing to be ashamed of.

Spencer looked up, pressing his lips together for a moment thoughtfully. The longer Derek was there, the higher the risk of his mother coming downstairs and that was something he didn't want to happen.

"I… I ran into my father today." He said slowly, his words extremely quiet and small. Derek blinked, shock hitting him for a moment. Hadn't he said that his father abandoned him? Damn… he shook his head and scooted closer, amazed that Spencer had told him anything at all. Even though he could actually see his reluctance on his face, he was still grateful that something was happening.

"Your father? …Where? What happened?" Derek asked, keeping his voice even though inside his mind was spinning in a million different directions.

Here, Spencer hesitated for much longer and glanced back up toward the stairs, making Derek frown thoughtfully, before he spoke again. His voice shook slightly and he spoke just as quietly before. "I… he… he was…" How the hell was he supposed to say this? He swallowed his words and shook his head.

He jerked suddenly when he felt a hand reach out and grasp his fingers gently, he looked up and his eyes met Derek's for a moment before he looked away. "It's alright, Spencer…" Derek told him. "Take a deep breath and think."

Spencer stared at the dark fingers wrapped around his in a gentle grasp. Derek's hand was warm and it had been so long since someone had touched him like that. Like he was an actual person and not some sex object. He swallowed and shook his hand out of Derek's hold.

"He picked me up…" Spencer said suddenly. "Off the street and I didn't recognize him until he pulled into the motel parking lot…."

Derek shut his eyes, "Oh God…" he murmured, feeling sick to his stomach.

"He didn't even know it was me and I tried to leave but… He kept trying to get me to stay and I called him dad and… things went bad after that." Now that he had gotten over the hard part, it seemed ridiculously easy to talk to Derek about this. He didn't know why, but he knew Derek was listening and for some reason, it felt almost exactly like when he knew JJ was listening. As long as he didn't look into Derek's eyes and talked fast enough, it was simple. Like yanking a Band-Aid off instead of slowly peeling it away.

"He wanted to know how I got… to this point and I told him it wouldn't have happened if he had stayed and we just started screaming at each other and… then I ran…" his throat felt tight, his words shook and he was still barely speaking above a whisper but Derek heard it all and eyed him sympathetically.

They sat there silently for several moments, neither really knowing what to say to the other. A faint noise came from the stairs and both men looked up at the same time to see the tired looking woman standing there, a confused, sleepy look on her face.

_Shit. _Spencer grimaced and didn't even look at Derek as his mother entered the room.

"Spencer?" Diana asked tiredly. "Who's this?"

* * *

><p><strong>EN: Um… that's not another cliffhanger…? Yeah, I believe that…**

**Well, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Many, many more surprises in store (actually, I think there's only a few more, but many sounds so much better, lol)**

**If any of you are reading my M/R series, there's a poll on my page for you guys! (and don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Dads For A Day, hit some writer's block, but it should be posted by next week!)**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thank you so much for all of your fantastic reviews guys! I heart you!**

**And… uh… I'm sorry…? Does that count? I COULDN'T HELP IT! Jeesh, you guys get angry quick… lol**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p><span>Ch. 13<span>

Spencer felt like time was frozen for a long moment as his mind frantically searched for an answer to his mother's question. How could he explain who Derek was, truthfully, without also giving away the fact that he had been working on the streets since he was a teenager? His mind, for one of the few times in his entire life, was completely blank.

Diana walked further into the room, studying Derek, who looked just as confused as she did, with narrowed eyes. "Isn't he the same man who dropped you off a few days ago?" she asked. "What did you say his name was…? Derek?"

"Uh… Yes." Spencer nodded mechanically. "Mom," he winced slightly around the word, noticing Derek's confusion grow as he spoke. "This is Derek. He's a, uh, friend of mine."

Derek wasn't sure why, but to him it was obvious that Spencer was fighting hard not to have to explain anything to either of them in detail.

"Derek," Spencer continued, his voice still sounding tight and forced, "This is my mother…"

Eyes traveling between the two people, Derek slowly reached his hand out and offered the woman a kind smile, "It's nice to meet you Mrs. …." He trailed off, realizing that he didn't know Spencer's last name.

"Diana Reid," Diana supplied for him, "Call me Diana. Reid was my husband's name." Derek nodded, hearing that same harsh quality in her voice as she talked about Spencer's father as Spencer had when he talked about him. And after hearing what Spencer had just told him, he certainly didn't blame either of them.

"Diana," Derek nodded as she grasped his hand briefly before taking a seat across from him.

"What are you doing home so early, baby?" Diana asked, a faint frown on her face as she turned to face her son once again. "You don't usually get home until after midnight…"

Spencer looked down, remembering what had caused him to run home with angry, hurt tears stinging in his eyes and grimacing at the memory of it all. "I… I decided to take the rest of the night off. I didn't get much sleep last night …"

Diana raised a brow, studying her son's face and glancing back at Derek, who was staring at the younger man in confusion. "Then what is Derek doing here so late?"

Spencer winced again, turning to look at the older man as well. "I… he drove me home." He lied.

Derek was incredibly confused now. Why was he lying to her? He could understand not wanting to mention that he'd run into his father after all those years, but that didn't explain lying about him.

Diana looked unconvinced, "Is that true?" she asked, turning to Derek, who for a moment felt like her eyes were probing right into his mind, reading every thought he'd ever had. He glanced back at Spencer, who wide eyes were pleading with him. And that's when he understood. She didn't know. Diana had no idea what her son was doing every day and night.

Swallowing, Derek nodded slowly.

Diana frowned at them, "Spencer what did I tell you about lying to me?" she asked. "And don't say you aren't, because I know you are. I always know."

Spencer felt panic seize his chest for a moment before he was able to force himself to remain as calm as he possibly could in the given the situation. "Mom, I –"

"What's going on, Spencer? Really?" Diana asked.

"It's… it's nothing, Mom. I…" he hesitated, looking away from his mother's eyes for a moment to collect his jumbled, fractured thoughts. "I ran into Dad earlier…."

"What!" Diana looked shocked and confused as she stared at her son. "What did he say? What happened?"

Spencer felt a tight lump in his throat as he stared at his mother. What was he supposed to tell her? The truth sure as hell wasn't going to happen… So what else could he say? "I… he didn't say much. I didn't stick around to listen anyway." His voice was edged with anger and malice and Derek felt terrible for him at that moment.

"He didn't even tell you why?" Diana asked, her voice a bit quieter than before. She had always felt somewhat responsible for William's leaving. There wasn't much love left in the relationship, she had never missed the man. But she hated him for leaving behind his son, the least he could've done would have been to stick around for Spencer.

Spencer shook his head, looking away once again, not daring to meet either of their eyes. "No. He just… he said I couldn't blame him for my own mistakes." He said bitterly.

"What mistakes?" Diana frowned. "You're doing everything you can, Spencer, to keep us from starving."

"I know, Mom." The young man whispered. Derek sat there, feeling like an intruder on some incredibly private moment and started to get up and leave when Diana seemed to remember that he was there and turned to face him.

"And what are you really doing here?" she asked.

"I…" Derek hesitated and shot a look to Spencer, who looked worried again as his mother's probing eyes searched Derek's face for an honest reply.

"I came to check on Spencer, to make sure he was alright…"

Diana's eyes remained narrow and trained on Derek's face for a few moments more before she accepted his answer as the truth. She stood after that. "Alright then…" she finally spoke. "I'll let you two finish talking." She turned and went back upstairs, both men watching her as she left.

Once he was sure that Diana was out of hearing range, Derek turned to Spencer with a million more questions buzzing around in his mind. "Is she the reason you didn't want me in your house?" he asked. "And why did you lie to her? Why don't you tell her the truth?"

Spencer stared at him for a long moment before standing up and heading in the kitchen, Derek followed quickly. "Well?" he demanded when Spencer remained silent.

"Yes." He said.

"Yes what?" Derek looked confused.

"Yes, my mother is the reason I didn't want you in the house. I lied to her because she doesn't need to know the truth. She would blame herself and feel horrible if she knew and there's no way that I'm going to tell her that. She's the only family I have, Derek. She means more to me than anyone else in the world."

The sincerity and pain the young man's voice as he spoke about his mother made Derek's heart ache for him. He was giving up so much to make sure that his mother was taken care of. To make sure there was food for them to eat, electricity and heating and air conditioning.

"So what does she think you do every day?" Derek asked, leaning against the counter in the small kitchen.

"She thinks I go to work, which isn't a lie. She just doesn't know what I'm doing for a living. And I don't intend for her to find out. She's better off not knowing."

"You hate yourself, don't you?"

"What?" Spencer frowned at Derek, not quite sure what he was asking or why.

"You hate yourself. You hate what you're doing to make money that you need, you hate lying to your mother, you hate that you don't feel in control of your life… You hate being you."

"And what if I do, Derek?" Spencer scowled. "I can't change who I am. I can't get a job, I can't leave my mother alone, I can't –"

"Why not?" Derek asked, tilting his head. "You seem like an intelligent kid, Spencer. You're young, you're smart… You could get a job somewhere, surely. Why can't you? And why can't you leave your mother? You can send her money if she needs the help."

"You don't understand…" Spencer shook his head and turned away from him, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water, hoping that maybe that would help him to wash away the hard lump still stuck in his throat.

"Then help me understand," Derek insisted. "I want to understand, Spencer. I want to help you."

Spencer looked down and shook his head. "You understanding this would require a whole new level of trust, Derek. Trust that I don't feel comfortable putting in you."

"Why not?" Derek demanded, frowning at him. "What have I ever done to you, Spencer? Nothing. I've never hurt you, I've never insulted you. The only thing I am guilty of is trying to help you and you seem to take some offense to that. I am not the bad guy here. Don't you understand that?"

"Don't you think I want to believe that? Derek, you have no idea how hard it is for me to tell anyone anything about myself. Because in my experience, people cannot be trusted. Eventually, they let you down. It's always been that way, it always is. I would rather deal with the people honest enough to say they are just going to use me for their own goddamn pleasure and then leave, rather than listen to false promises and sugar-coated lies. No one gives a shit about a prostitute who's barely able to support himself and his mother, Derek. No one."

Derek was silent, listening to the bitter, angry words as they left Spencer's mouth and he felt every ounce of his self-loathing and shame pouring out. It was quite for what felt like a lifetime once Spencer finished speaking, and then Derek finally replied. "I do."

Spencer blinked, his eyes wide and torn. He was so tempted to spill all of his problems, every horrible trauma that had ever been inflicted on him, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. Derek might think that he cared, but Spencer knew better. In the end, it was always the same. Derek would realize that he was only acting out of some strange need to be a hero and he would leave. Just like everyone else.

"No you don't…" Spencer shook his head sadly.

Derek walked across the small kitchen until he was facing Spencer and gripped his shoulder in a gentle hold, spinning him around so that he was looking him in the face. "Yes I do, Spencer. I care about you, I don't want to see you hurt and I'll do everything I can to help you, if you'll just let me in."

Spencer looked away from those irritatingly probing eyes. "I can't…" he half-whispered, his throat feeling tight and constricted again.

Derek stared at him, not sure why those words made his chest feel tight. "Why not?" he demanded again, his voice desperate.

"Derek, there's nothing you could do that would make me think you actually gave a damn about me. Nothing." Spencer said forcefully, shaking his head. "Trust me, alright. I am incapable of trusting anyone."

For the first time, Derek realized that maybe Spencer was right. Maybe he was too jaded to trust again. But Derek had been jaded, he had been hurt and abused and he had forced himself to trust again and he'd be damned if he didn't help Spencer remember what that felt like.

What happened next was something neither man expected and changed everything. Derek stared into Spencer's eyes, feeling something in him scream in anger and rage at all the people who had made him the way he was. "I care about you, Spencer." He whispered. And without thinking, without realizing it, without knowing why it happened, Derek suddenly found his lips touching Spencer's in a forceful and somehow tender kiss.

Then the moment was gone as Derek panicked, his mind rebelling against what he was doing, horrible memories making their way to the surface of his mind as he jerked away and stumbled back.

"I… I'm so sorry!" Derek's eyes were wide in fear. Spencer stared back at him, his own eyes wide in shock, his face completely blank as his mind scrambled to comprehend what had just happened.

As the young man lifted his hand to touch his lips, as if trying to feel the kiss again to be sure if was real, Derek turned and ran out of the house and into the night, not daring to look back, sure that what he had just done would make certain Spencer never spoke to him again.

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><p><strong>EN: So… Still no 'romance' but lots of angst. Derek kissed Spencer… but here's a question: can either of them actually accept what just happened? Hmm…**

**And… well, there are still more surprises in store… so don't worry, this isn't close to being over and those two aren't going goo-goo eyed just yet… Now it's time for doubt and fear to move in ;)**

**I am so twisted…**

**Don't forget to review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Guys that was NOT another cliffhanger. That was … a tense ending that left you feeling incomplete. Jeesh… XD**

**I am SO sorry for the lack of updates these last few days! I was in GA again (unexpectedly) and I also did not have my laptop because *NEWSFLASH* parents can still take your crap from you even if you're 18 as long as you live under their roof and piss them off… And to make matters worse, I was in a car accident and the whole right side of my body is sore so typing is a little harder than usual.**

**Thanks so much for all of your amazing reviews! Glad you're still enjoying the story!**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW! Pretty, pretty please? With a cherry on top? Lol**

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><p>Ch. 14<p>

Derek fumbled with numb, shaking fingers for the keys and it took him over a minute to finally crank the SUV up. He didn't pause to look back at Spencer's house until he was nearly out of sight range, terrified that he would look back and see the younger man standing in the front door, staring at him with accusing eyes.

Instead, what he saw was almost worse: a small, empty-looking house despite nearly all the downstairs lights being on. He quickly looked away and focused intently on watching the yellow lines on the road flash by as he maneuvered his way through Vegas traffic to his small apartment.

Derek fell onto his couch like he had so many times recently, and rested his head in his hands, elbows pressing against his knees. Now that he was home, and his adrenaline was pumping as fast, his mind began to go over the kiss. What had that meant? Why had that happened? What the fuck was wrong with him? Why did it terrify him so much?

He was still trying to wrap his mind around exactly what had possessed him to do something so incredibly stupid, that last question seemed to jump at him from nowhere. Why had it scared him? He knew the answer to that with two words. One name. Carl Buford.

But Spencer wasn't Carl. And Spencer hadn't kissed _him. He _had kissed Spencer. Though the reasoning was beyond him, Derek knew that he was the one who had initiated the kiss and Spencer hadn't really even had a chance to respond before he ran out like some frightened teenager. What the hell was wrong with him?

He had never, not once, considered doing anything …sexual… with another man. Not before Carl, and sure as hell not after. Before, he had been a normal fourteen year old boy; he liked looking at pretty girls in their bathing suits and models on TV. He would talk about girls with his friends, sometimes fantasize about certain girls he liked. He never thought about his sexual orientation as anything other than completely normal and one hundred percent straight.

And then Carl had happened… And he stopped thinking about girls and sex completely. He had felt so dirty, so tainted and filthy after the things Carl did to him and forced him to do that he did everything possible to avoid the subject of sex altogether.

Of course, when he was about sixteen he decided to try and wash away the feeling of Carl's hands all over him with a girl he had been dating. And to his surprise, it had made him feel just the teeniest bit more 'normal'. But later, he still felt dirty and wrong. And no matter how many times he had tried over the years, with an entire assortment of different girls, he always ended up unable to wash away the feeling that Carl had somehow impressed onto his body. That horrible feeling of filth and uncleanliness.

And now, he was sitting in his living room, hands shaking as he tried to get his mind around the fact that he had kissed another man, without thinking, without wanting to… at least not consciously. And for the first time since he was a teenager, he thought about what sex was and what he had been led to view sex as because of the abuse he'd suffered. For the first time in his life, he found himself thinking about all of the strange and mixed up emotions he always had when he was with a woman, when he kissed a woman. Even on the rare occasions when he allowed himself to fantasize about a woman… It had never felt exactly _right _but he had always figured that was because of what Carl had done to him.

What if it was because he wasn't as straight as he thought he was? The very thought was horrifying in and of itself. How could he be gay? How could he even think about sex with another man after what had happened with Carl? What was wrong with him?

But, again, he found himself thinking the same thing. Spencer was not Carl. If anything, in this situation, Spencer was more like Derek than Carl. And now he probably thought that this had been Derek's motive the entire time. To help him out and gain his trust just so that he could have sex with him… And with all of these cloudy, conflicting emotions spinning around in his mind, Derek was starting to wonder if, on some subconscious level, that really _had _been the reason he'd felt so drawn to Spencer. Was that why he had wanted so badly to help him?

It was a scary thought that made him feel worse than he had felt just moments before. Was he becoming like the monster that had destroyed his childhood?

His thoughts were suddenly cut short as his cell phone buzzed loudly from where he'd thrown on the coffee table. It was nearly eleven thirty at night which meant that it could only be something about the case.

Wells's voice crackled slightly through the speakers as Derek answered the phone. _"We got another body,"_

**~/.\~**

Spencer stood stiff as a stone in the kitchen as he watched Derek run out like he'd seen a ghost. His hand was still lifted, fingers trembling slightly, over his lips where he could still feel the searing burn of Derek's kiss. He wanted to say something, to call out after the man, but the words were caught on that damn lump in his throat and all he could do was stand there dumbly, watching him race away.

Just like everyone always did. The bitter thought hit Spencer before he could stop it and he felt that tiny pool of hope start to dry up. He didn't like this feeling, he didn't want to feel that way but what else was he supposed to do? Derek had kissed him and then he ran away like all of the other people Spencer had been stupid enough to let himself care about in his life.

He had never been kissed like that before… He really hadn't had that many kisses to be honest. The men, and occasional women, that he serviced weren't exactly interested in kissing, they just wanted to fuck and be done with it. There were a few who had a little bit more twisted views on sex and there were scattered instances of depressed husbands struggling with their sexuality who just wanted someone to talk to them. He preferred the ones who were as detached from the experience as he was. It made the whole thing much easier when neither of them had anything invested in the entire exchange except money and release. It was just sex to them and there was no need for things like kissing.

Kissing was something that you did with a girlfriend or boyfriend, someone you cared about. Kissing implied a closer, emotional connected that Spencer didn't have with his customers, or anyone for that matter. A he had always thought it was better that way.

But that kiss… He might have been lying to himself to ease the pain, but that kiss had felt so real, so much feeling had been behind that kiss and Spencer found himself wanting to feel it again. Because when Derek had kissed him, he, for one second, believed what the other man was saying. Believed that he cared and really did want to help him.

And then the kiss was over and all Derek could say was _"I'm so sorry,"_ before running away without so much as a glance back. What did that mean? Why would he kiss him and then run away? Was that all he had wanted from the beginning? But if that was true, why not stay and push things further?

So why the kiss? And why had he decided to run away? There had been terror in Derek's eyes, Spencer knew that look all too well. Was it so horrifying to the other man to think that he might care about him? That made the lump in Spencer's throat tightened even more and he downed the glass of water that was still sitting on the counter beside him.

Spencer wasn't sure what to think or how to think about the situation. He had never felt anything at all like that kiss before, and he felt like he was teetering on the edge of actually trusting Derek. But then it had all been ripped away so quickly as Derek ran from the house with that fear in his eyes. So maybe the feeling had been some fabrication of Spencer's mind, that stupid fragile hope trying to create something that wasn't there. And maybe Derek hadn't meant to kiss him and when he realized that he had he ran away to avoid telling Spencer that it hadn't meant a damn thing to him.

For some reason, Spencer believed this more than he believed that Derek had just been using him from the beginning. He didn't know why, but he just felt that Derek wouldn't have hurt him on purpose. Which was why he ran, he didn't want to hurt him by telling the truth. That Spencer was right and he really didn't care as much as he thought he did.

It wasn't until that thought occurred to him that the tears started falling again. These tears were less angry and more… broken. He couldn't explain why he felt so empty now that Derek had left, but he did.

He had been right, just like always. And Derek had run away like everyone always did. But this time it hurt more than the other times. Almost as much as his father's abandonment. He felt an inexplicable ache in his chest and the tears falling down his face dripped to the tile floor but he didn't notice or care.

Once again, he felt completely alone in the world. And after a few more minutes standing in the kitchen crying, he decided that was exactly how he liked it. Like he had told Derek before, trusting cost too much. He was better off not trusting anyone and shutting himself off to the world than he was opening himself up for disappointment. Derek had somehow managed to get a foot in the door but now that he was gone again, Spencer slammed the door shut.

He swallowed the hurt that was threatening to break him and mechanically walked upstairs to his bedroom. Tomorrow he would wake up and do what he did every day. And things would go on just like they always did. Because Derek didn't care about him and he didn't care about Derek and that was the way things were supposed to be.

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><p><strong>EN: Ah, come on boys**! **Stop being so damn stubborn, can't you see you're meant to be together? …I'm so screwing with their minds and emotions… and it's incredibly fun. I get to be God ;)**

**Again, I am so terribly sorry for leaving you guys! I will try very hard to not do that again!**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thanks so much to all of you wonderful reviewers! I heart you! **

**Glad you enjoyed the chapter; there was a lot of emotional stuff going on but I promise, everything will eventually be settled and all will be well again :D**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; language; prostitution**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

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><p>Ch. 15<p>

Derek held a cup of bitter coffee in his hands as he ducked beneath the crime scene tape and walked over to where Bradley, Prentiss and Wells were standing next to the two victims. At least the good thing about the bodies being found so late at night was that there weren't nearly as many people milling around with camera phones, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bodies with some morbid need to photograph the proof and tell all their friends.

Lying mere feet from where the detectives stood were the bodies of two men, one young and wearing what Derek thought was eyeliner and glitter eye shadow, the other older and dressed in a crumbled business suit, his pants down around his ankles.

"The John hasn't been ID'd yet," Wells murmured quietly to his partner as Derek offered him the cup in his hands. "The kid is only sixteen, his name is Kevin Long."

Derek shook his head as he looked into the lifeless brown eyes of the teenager. Sixteen years old and out working the streets at night? The thought made his mind wander back to Spencer and he couldn't help but want to know how old Spencer was when he began selling himself. And there was that same nagging question demanding to know why he had done it in the first place.

"The John didn't have a wallet on him?"

"Nothing." Prentiss shook her head. "A couple hundred dollar bills in his pockets and that's it."

Derek tilted his head, studying the older man. "He must be a tourist. Probably left his wallet and ID in his hotel room. Check with hotels and rental services. Maybe someone's missing him."

"I'll do it," Bradley immediately volunteered. "Anything to get out of this stinking alley…"

Emily sighed, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes at Bradley with a small frown on her face.

"How do you put up with him?" Derek asked, frowning at her.

She looked thoughtful, "Reminding myself that he's only half of this partnership and he's been pushing for a transfer for months…" she paused. "And every now and then I put salt in his coffee just to remind him that I won't put up with much more of his bullshit."

Wells smirked slightly at that remark. "Ever considered arsenic?" he suggested.

Prentiss raised a brow, "Oh, come on, Darren… you and I both know arsenic is a slow death. If I wanted him dead, I'd just shoot his sorry ass."

Derek snorted and shook his head again, his eyes riveted to the young prostitute's body lying on the ground like some macabre rag doll. The faint smile vanished from his face again and he let out a depressed sigh, unable to keep his mind focused on the case after all that had happened in the last few hours.

Wells studied his partner and frowned at him. He had that look on his face again. The same look he'd had over a month ago when he'd first started acting strange and distracted. Not that it had honestly gotten much better, but a few days ago he'd seemed much more like himself than he had before.

"Something bothering you, Morgan?" Wells asked the younger man, frowning at him.

Derek looked up, blinking for a moment like he was coming out of some long, drawn out thought process. "… Yeah, something's bothering me. This bastard just killed a sixteen year old boy and we still don't have any evidence to go on." He made a face and stormed off toward the tape, muttering something about needing coffee.

Wells sighed loudly and shook his head. Prentiss watched him go with a frown on her face, remembering what had happened a few days ago on the street corner when they had been talking to Spencer and Amber… She was sure that whatever was going on, it had to do with Spencer.

"I'll be right back, Wells…" Emily said, turning to the other man briefly. "I need to call Bradley before he gets back to the station."

Wells grunted his response, already kneeling down to talk to the coroner about time and cause of death. Emily took off at a light job after Derek, hoping to catch him before he got into his SUV and drove away.

"Derek!" she caught sight of the other detective stomping his way through a small group of reporters who were hounding him with questions to which he growled a threatening response. He ignored her and kept going.

Sighing, Emily shouldered her way through the thankfully sparse crowd and gripped Derek's forearm as he tried to maneuver his way around a tight alley corner. "Derek, hold up!" she snapped when he wrenched his arm free. He turned and frowned at her, his dark eyes looking cloudy and unhappy.

"What?" he asked, his voice snapping like a whip. She frowned at him and pushed him further into the side alley, away from the reporters who had spotted the coroner loading the bodies into the van and were now rushing to get statements and photographs instead of paying attention to two cops whispering angrily.

"What's going on with you and Spencer?" she asked pointblank. There was no sense beating around the bush, she knew what she wanted to know and Derek would either give her a straight answer or avoid it altogether.

"What are you talking about?" Derek growled at her.

So he was going to avoid it. "Something's going on. The way you two looked at each other the other day says there's something more between you than just passing acquaintances. What happened after JJ and I took Amber home?"

"Nothing happened." Derek gritted his teeth together. "Spencer and I… we met about a month ago when I was walking home and that's all."

"You're a terrible liar, Derek." Emily informed him, folding her arms over her chest and setting him with a probing, angry glare.

Derek glared at her, "Nothing happened, alright? Damn it, woman, we've got two dead bodies out there and a killer looking for another target and you're standing here prying into my life."

She raised a brow but didn't otherwise react to his outburst. "Are you this upset because we haven't caught our killer, or because the longer it takes, the higher the chances are that Spencer will become a victim?"

She didn't wait for him to respond, turning and heading back to the crime scene, leaving Derek standing there blinking in shock as a look of dawning comprehension lit his face and he suddenly realized something that had been right in front of his face for a month.

**~/.\~**

Spencer left the house early that morning, making sure that his mother was still sleeping before he headed out. The sun was hanging lower in the sky than usual and there were thick, black clouds in the distance. He sighed. Rain was never helpful to him, it meant less people were willing to stop.

But he might as well make the best of the time he had. He headed toward his corner lost in thought. He was doing everything he could not to think about Derek and the night before; the last thing he needed was a cloudy head, he'd already been messed up enough as it was the day before.

"Hey, Spence." Amber greeted him, her eyes slightly puffy like she had been crying. "Did you hear about Kevin?"

"Kevin?" Spencer frowned, turning to face the younger girl, "No…" he shook his head, already knowing what she was going to tell him. Kevin had been the newest victim of the serial killer that the media had recently gotten wind of.

Amber nodded sadly, "They found him with a John late last night." She said, her voice quiet, as if she was telling him some huge secret that shouldn't be overheard by the tourists passing by.

"Where was he?"

"Not far from here," Amber said. "He was working his usual spot a couple blocks over." Amber told him. "Shantella found him… Cops have been all over the alley back there since last night."

Spencer shook his head, his throat tight again. Two friends dead because of this guy and the cops hadn't found anything. A bitter voice in the back of his head told him that it was because the cops didn't give a damn about some murdered hookers. The only reason they were bothering at all was because of the Johns that were killed alongside of them.

But Detective Prentiss had seemed to care, genuinely. She was one of the few. Derek… Spencer didn't want to think about Derek. Thinking about Derek made him think about the night before and the more he thought about that, the angrier he got and the harder it seemed for him to focus on what was really important. Surviving.

He and Amber spent a good part of the day trying to coax men into pulling over, but between the two of them they'd on serviced three Johns by noon and the sky was looking bleak. Grey, heavy clouds were drifting closer and closer to the hustle and bustle of the city that seemed otherwise oblivious to the oncoming threat.

Aside from the people dashing in and out of traffic, attempting to do the impossible and flag down a cab in the midst of the insanity, and the few prostitutes who were still risking being caught in the coming storm to snag a few more Johns before running for cover, everything appeared to be moving forward as it always did in Vegas.

Spencer had just jumped into a dark sedan when the first rain drops began to sprinkle down and he waved goodbye to Amber as she hurried in the direction of her small dingy flat a few blocks away.

"Looks like it's gonna be one hell of a rain storm, huh?" the man chuckled lightly but Spencer just shrugged. He fidgeted uncomfortably in the seat. He always felt strange sitting in the cars with them, like he didn't belong; like he was going to stain their expensive upholstery just by sitting there.

He studied the man driving. He was tall, strong looking. He had blond hair that was combed back neatly and blue eyes that had an almost white tinge to them. For a moment, Spencer was struck by the absurd thought that he looked very much like the poster child for Hitler's perfect man.

"You got a name, kid?" the man asked, turning to look at him for a moment before looking back at the road. Spencer winced, remembering those exact words in an echo in the back of his mind. Derek had said that to him the first night they met all those weeks ago…

"Spencer…" he replied, his voice cracking slightly. He swallowed and looked back out the window.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine." Spencer snapped back at him, not sure why the question pissed him of like it did.

The man raised his brow, "Ok then… Spencer." He nodded. "You don't mind going to a hotel, do you? It's kind of cramped in the back of the car."

"Whatever you want to do," Spencer shrugged. "It's your money."

"Hotel it is…" the man nodded, whipping the car into a small motel parking lot. "I'll be right back, Spencer."

Spencer just shrugged, watching the man run, darting the pelting rain drops that were beginning to fall harder and faster than before. He felt something inside him trying to crack, and he did everything he could to keep it from breaking. This was his life, his normal. And there was nothing that would ever change that.

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><p><strong>EN: Ok, now I'm severely depressed and need to take a happy pill…**

**Jeesh, these two are stubborn, huh? But don't worry. They will be back together and I'm hoping that I'll FINALLY** **be able to write the long, wonderful smut scene I have planned soon… If everything goes as planned and they listen to me, all should be coming together…**

**Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: *Grins* Thanks so much for all of the wonderful reviews! I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter! I promise, Morgan and Reid WILL get together, I am frankly amazed I've held off as long as I have! It's getting difficult, but I've got a bit more to cover and then it shall happen…**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p>Ch. 16<p>

Once inside the hotel Spencer sat on the bed, waiting for the man, who had introduced himself as Jason, to come out of the bathroom. At least this motel room looked clean, he'd been in far worse places before.

Jason came out of the bathroom still clothed, except for his jacket and tie, which he'd slung off earlier and which were lying across one of the chairs by the small table in the room. He studied Spencer for a moment and sat down next to him on the bed. Spencer was starting to get a little worried, by now they usually were at least both naked…

He shivered when Jason's hand reached up to brush his wet hair out of his face. "Have you done this before?" he asked gently.

Spencer slid away fractionally and shook his hair loose from the man's hand, "Yes." He replied shortly, keeping his lips pressed together.

Jason smiled, "Then why do you seem so nervous?" he asked.

Spencer didn't respond, sitting there and waiting for the man to tell him what he wanted.

Jason slid a hand around Spencer's neck and smiled at him again, placing his other hand at his waist. "Does that mean you're not nervous?" he asked.

Spencer shook his head, "No, I'm not nervous." He said, staring the man in the eye, daring him to tell him he was.

Jason smiled again and pushed Spencer backwards on the bed. "Good… Let's get started…"

**~/.\~**

Derek sighed as he and Wells made their way to the morgue where John Doe #0458, aka the John from their murder the previous night, was being kept. He shivered slightly as they walked into the cold room, looking around at the silver walls and the filing cabinet-like system that housed the bodies of the recently deceased.

The ME was a small man wearing a white lab coat and gloves, his balding head bent down over the body of their John. "Dr. Howard," Derek greeted the man. Dr. Howard had worked with the LVPD for several years and knew most of the homicide detectives personally.

He offered them a wan smile, "Detective Morgan, Detective Wells…" he nodded to them. "I didn't expect either of you for another half hour." He leaned up, reaching toward a small silver bowl and lifted it up, swirling it around, creating a soft, metallic clanking.

"I just pulled this slug out of John Doe here. It's the same as all the other victim's."

Wells carefully lifted the bullet with a latex glove and slipped it inside a small evidence bag. "We'll get this to forensics," he told the doctor. "Can you tell us anything about this guy?"

"Well, he was in reasonably fit condition, early to mid-fifties. He didn't smoke or drink according to his lungs and liver and cause of death was a fatal shot to the aorta."

Derek studied the man with a frown, "And they haven't been able to identify him yet…"

"No one has come forward as far as I know…" Dr. Howard shrugged. "We sent his prints back up to you and I'm sure they're running them through AFIS now."

"Hopefully we'll catch a break…" Wells said, "Thanks doctor."

Derek shook his head and followed, "It'll take days to run through AFIS." He muttered.

"Yeah, well it's all we've got. Besides, us knowing who he is isn't going to make the investigation go any faster."

"But at least we'll be able to do something other than sit around wondering when this bastard is going to strike next."

"We'll get this guy, Derek. Don't worry. It's just taking longer than it usually does."

"And every day that slips by is another day for him to kill again." Derek snapped back. "I'm sick of this bastard running circles around us."

**~/.\~**

Spencer was shaking by the time Jason finally pulled out of him, dripping in sweat and gasping for breath. He was exhausted and was definitely ready to go home, but Jason was collapsed on top of him and a moment later, Spencer felt his hands starting to wonder. He groaned. God, he couldn't want to go _another _round could he? He'd already climaxed three times.

"You havesuch a beautiful body, Spencer…" Jason crooned in his ear. "Absolutely gorgeous. I can't believe you'd sink so low as to sell it."

"What?" Spencer frowned, squinting at the man as he ran his hands down his chest.

"Doesn't it make you feel filthy? Disgusting? Like you're not better than worthless garbage?" Jason continued.

"What the fuck are you talking about? You're no better!" Spencer glared at him. "You paid me to let you have sex with me. At least I'm doing this because I need money to survive. You're doing it for your own sick pleasure."

Jason quirked a brow, tilting his head slowly. "And that's my point, Spencer." He said. "It doesn't make sense, does it? You get paid to do what you do, so that you can earn a living and survive, but what about the men who pay you? No one calls them filthy or disgusting, do they? But they are. They're worse than you… They do it because they want to and you do it because you have to."

Spencer just stared at the man, confused. "What?"

Jason just smiled at him again, "Spread your legs…" he whispered. "One more time…"

**~/.\~**

Derek hated having to take a taxi home but there was no way he was walking home in that downpour. He sat in the back of the cab and just glared out at the grey skies. It was late enough as it was Las Vegas had taken on a dark pall with the clouds constantly swirling in the sky, wind beating torrents of water against the windows. Occasionally he caught sight of a flash of lightening and every couple of minutes he heard the loud crack of thunder echoing in the distance.

It had been a long day and they hadn't accomplished much. He was ready to get home and drown his headache with a beer, loud TV and if he was luck, six hours of sleep with interruption. Of course, lately, he didn't seem to be able to get three straight hours of sleep so he doubted very much that he'd get six.

He jumped out of the taxi, paying the driver quickly, and rushed toward the door to his apartment, slamming the door shut behind him and breathing a sigh of relief as he tossed his wet coat to the ground, kicked off his shows and made his way to the kitchen for a drink. He was definitely ready for a long night's sleep.

**~/.\~**

Spencer couldn't get dressed fast enough after Jason was finally finished. He took his money, shoved it into his pockets and shook his head at the offered ride back. "I'll take the bus…" he muttered, hurrying out of the room and headlong into the freezing downpour. At least the rain washed away some of the feeling of slime and bodily fluids from his body as it plastered his hair to his head.

He decided almost immediately to forgo the bus ride and half jogged down the mercifully empty sidewalk, heading toward home and almost wishing he'd accepted Jason's ride. But he was tired, stiff and still aching and most definitely not in the mood to spend another moment with the man, let alone a five minute car ride.

He was grateful when he raced up his driveway and pushed open the door, slamming it shut behind him and shivering against the freezing air. He looked down at his body, drenching in rain water, clothes stuck to him, his hair plastered down to his head in wet ringlets. A puddle was already beginning to form where he stood at the door.

He sighed and kicked his shoes off, peeling the soaked socks off his feet and taking a few deep breaths before heading upstairs. His mother's door was closed and he hurried by it, quickly heading to his bathroom and stripping his clothes out hurriedly, turning the shower on as hot as he could stand it and jumping in.

Now more than ever, Spencer felt the need to scrub himself clean and his skin was tinged pink and red by the time he was finished and he dried himself with a warm towel, throwing on a pair of pajama pants and an old T-shirt and heading downstairs again to get something to eat before going to bed.

He opened his mother's door to check on her and then froze, squinting his eyes into the darkness. His mother wasn't there. "Mom?" he called rushing into the room, searching the closet, the bathrooms and rushing downstairs. "Mom!" he screamed louder, frantically searching in the kitchen, the downstairs closets, the dining room…

She was nowhere.

"MOM!" Spencer screamed, his voice breaking as he tried desperately to think of some place she would have gone. She hardly ever left the house any more, and ever without him. What was he supposed to do?

Panic seizing his chest he ran to the phone and frantically dialed the only number he could think of, his eyes darting around the kitchen for any clue about where his mother had gone.

_"Hello."_

"JJ, it's Spencer! I'm –"

_"You've reached Jennifer. I'm sorry I can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll get back to you." _The recording continued and Spencer's heart fell. He slammed the phone back into the receiver and swore loudly. Now what was he supposed to do?

If he had a car he could drive around the city looking for her… but he didn't. And JJ was the only person he knew and trusted enough who could help. He dug frantically though his mind, trying to think of anyone who could help him. But who?

Derek.

No, he couldn't ask Derek for help. He didn't have his number anyway and Derek wouldn't want to help him anyway. His heart was thudding painfully in his chest as he thought of all the things that could be happening to his mother while she was out there in the rain, wandering around Vegas.

Swallowing, Spencer clenched his eyes shut and hurried upstairs, throwing on a pair of jeans and his coat before running out the front door again, back into the pouring rain.

**~/.\~**

Derek had just laid his head back against the pillow when he heard a furious pounding against his door and he swore under his breath. Maybe if he stayed where he was they would go away. Unfortunately, the pounding on seemed to louder and more frantic and he thought about the rain drenching whoever was standing there and he reluctantly slid out of bed, tugging a pair of sweat pants over his boxers and heading toward the door.

"Look, I –" he stopped, blinking in the sight of rain drenched Spencer standing there, his eyes large and horrified, seemingly oblivious to the rain pelting him.

"Spencer?"

"I need your help!" Spencer gasped. "M-My mom… she's gone!"

"Gone, what do you mean gone?" Derek demanded.

"I don't know where she is!" Spencer said, his eyes pleading with him desperately. "I got home and she wasn't there. You have to help me find her! Please, Derek!"

Derek stared into those sad, desperate eyes and remembered what Spencer had told him about his mother. _"She's all I have…"_

"Hang on, let me get dressed." Derek turned and pulled Spencer inside with him. The young man just stood in the door, shivering and looking uncomfortable as Derek quickly threw on a coat and a shirt and grabbed his eyes.

"It's gonna be ok, Spencer." He promised him as they ran out to the parking lot and his waiting SUV. "We'll find her. I promise."

* * *

><p><strong>EN: Before anyone gets pissed and/or worried: Diana isn't gonna get hurt. I would never do that to her. But I would put Spencer through the hell of worrying because I am a cruel, cruel person.**

**Hope you guys liked it! I promise, we're getting closer and closer to Spencer and Derek actually realizing that they love each other ;)**

**Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of the fantastic reviews guys! I know it was cruel of me to leave you with such a horrible "cliffhanger" (if you insist that's what it was, fine, but I like being in denial so I say it wasn't) XP**

**But don't worry, it'll make sense eventually, I promise!**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consesual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p><span>Ch. 17<span>

Derek glanced over toward the young man sitting in the passenger seat of his SUV, staring desperately out the window, trying to squint through the pouring rain. "Where do you think your mom went?" he asked cautiously.

"I don't know…" Spencer's voice cracked slightly and Morgan eyed him with worry. "She… she doesn't normally leave the house. Especially not without me."

Derek frowned; that sounded very strange to him. Why would Diana not leave the house without Spencer? "Look, it's alright, kid, relax. She's a grown woman, I know it's late and storming but I'm sure she can take care of herself."

Spencer turned to give him a look that made him want to take back the words he'd just said, though he wasn't entirely sure why.

"…Can't she?" he asked, the question sounding strange to his ears. Why wouldn't a grown woman be able to take care of herself without the help of her son?

Spencer pressed his lips and looked away again, eyes searching the stormy night for some sign of his mother as they drove down the neighborhood where he lived.

"Spencer, talk to me." Derek pressed, "What's going on here?"

"I…" Spencer sounded unsure and didn't turn to face him. "Look, please just help me find her, Derek. I have to. Then you can go back to your life and you won't have to think about me again."

"Who the hell said I wanted that?" Derek demanded. "Look, Spencer I told you, I care about you. I want to help you…"

"It didn't seem like that the other night…" Spencer muttered, sounding bitter and hurt.

Derek felt a pang of guilt hit him square in the chest and he sighed. "… I know. I shouldn't have done what I did and I shouldn't have run off like that. I'm sorry, Spencer I… It's complicated."

"What's complicated?" Spencer finally turned to face the older man and his wide eyes seemed to penetrate right to his soul. Almost the same way his mother's had.

Derek looked away and stared at the rain pelting against the windshield. "It's personal, alright."

"If you want me to share personal things with you, why won't you share personal things with me?" Spencer demanded, frowning at the other man. "That seems fairly hypocritical of you, Derek."

Derek sighed, chewing on his lip and fighting with the urge to shut off the conversation or take that terrifying step forward and tell Spencer everything… "I'll tell you," he said slowly, sounding reluctant. "But only if you tell me why it's so important that you find your mom."

Spencer blanched and looked away, curious and half desperate. He knew he owed Derek a lot, and he could hear sincerity in the other man's voice that he hadn't heard before in anyone else's voice. "I… My mother… she's not…" he fumbled, not entirely sure how to say it. He had shared the information with too many people; it was personal and difficult to talk about. But there was something about Derek that made him want so badly to trust him.

"She's not what?" Derek asked, hoping his interruption didn't deter the younger man from finishing his thought.

"She's not… well." Spencer said, pressing his lips together. "She… she's unstable. Mentally."

Derek frowned, "She seemed fine the other night."

"Well, yeah. She was diagnosed with Paranoid Schizophrenia before I was born… She takes medication for it, and it helps, but… sometimes she can have violent episodes and if she doesn't take her medication it's even worse…"

Derek blinked, shocked the hear that. Diana had seemed normal enough to him, a little off and she had a very upfront personality but he never would have thought that she had any sort of mental illness. "So she could be out here in this storm… in the middle of an episode?" he asked.

"Exactly," Spencer nodded, fear so clear in his eyes it made Derek want to reach out and hug him. "And I need to find her before she hurts herself or someone else."

"Where would she go?"

"I don't know!" Spencer said, exasperated. "I already told you…"

"Hey, listen. Calm down and think, Spencer. You know your mother. When she's in the middle of an episode where does she normally go?"

"Her bedroom. Or the kitchen. It depends on which place feels safer to her." Spencer answered automatically. "But that doesn't help. She's not at home, Derek."

"I know that, but what place in the city feels safe to her? You said you're usually with her when you go out; maybe she's looking for you. Where would she go?"

Spencer thought about it and suddenly said, "The library!"

"Great, see, now we're getting somewhere. Where's the library?"

Spencer gave Derek quick directions for how to get there and they pulled up to the front of the large stone building a few minutes later. The parking lot was deserted and the library was closed, but Spencer could spot what looked like a person sitting hunched over on the library steps.

"I think that's her!" Spencer jumped out of the car and raced forward with Derek right behind him. "MOM!" Spencer yelled over the roaring of the rain and raced up the steps to where Diana Reid sat, shivering and shaking in the rain.

Spencer sat down beside her, ignoring the rain pouring down over them and placed a hand gently on the woman's shoulder. "Mom…" he said quietly. "It's Spencer."

Derek stopped a few feet away and stood there, watching the two of them as Diana looked up, her eyes wide in fear and confusion.

"Spencer?" she asked, blinking. "What are we doing here? The library's closed…" she looked around and frowned, "And it's raining."

"I know, Mom." Spencer offered her a gentle smile and held her hand as he guided her up from the steps. "Derek's going to take us home, alright? We'll come back to the library again some other time."

"Ok…" Diana glanced back toward the closed library, some distant look in her eyes as Spencer guided her down the steps. "I was looking for you, Spencer… You were in danger."

"I'm fine, Mom." Spencer assured her, throwing Derek a grateful look as they walked back to his SUV. "I promise."

She squeezed his hand, "Good, baby. I was worried about you."

Spencer sighed, "I know," he whispered as he climbed into the front passenger seat. "I know…"

**~/.\~**

Derek helped Reid get Diana inside the house and into bed, waiting downstairs and feeling a little awkward standing, dripping wet, in the living room. Knowing about Diana's condition certainly did explain a lot though.

Spencer came back down stairs dressed in dry clothes, his hair still damp and curling around his face in a way that made him look even younger than he already was. Derek winced at that thought, thinking about what he and Emily had talked about earlier and what he had realized because of it. He was attracted to Spencer. Maybe more than attracted, considering how far he had gone out of his way to help the young man.

He swallowed and looked down awkwardly at his own wet clothes.

"I, uh…" Spencer frowned. "I might have something that fits you if you want to change…"

Derek looked up again, debating about that. He would like to get out of these clothes, but he didn't want to take Spencer's clothes. He could wait. "I'll be fine." He said, shrugging the offer off.

"Oh, alright…" Spencer could feel a strange tension between the two of them and he knew it had to have been because of that kiss. Suddenly, he blinked. "So…" he said slowly. "What was so complicated earlier? With the kiss? Why did you run out?"

Derek blinked and looked up, feeling highly uncomfortable and not wanting to answer the question at all. "I…"

"Come on, we had a deal, Derek. It wasn't easy for me to tell you about my mom…" Spencer threw a glance over his shoulder toward the stairs as he said that and turned back to face Derek again.

"I know." Derek nodded, taking a deep breath. "It's just… really hard for me to say this… I don't know how… how to explain, I guess."

"Try." Spencer insisted. "Trust works both ways, Derek. I don't see how you expect me to trust you when you don't trust me."

Derek hated the logic in Spencer's argument and took a deep, slightly shaky breath. "Alright, fine. First of all, I… I really am sorry for running out on you like that. I panicked, Spencer. I didn't want you to think that was the only reason I was helping, because it wasn't. I never even thought about… about that with you.

"And when it happened, it brought back a lot painful memories. I had no idea why I did what I did until a little while ago…"

"What do you mean?"

"Spencer… listen, I want to help you get out of this life. I want to help you do everything you can possibly do with your life and I care about you. A lot. More than I realized…" Derek swallowed. "And it wasn't easy to admit that to myself, I think I was in denial at first. But now I realized that I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone else. I can't explain it, I just… I do. These murders have been driving me insane because I'm terrified that I'll get a call one day and it'll be your body lying there on the ground…"

Derek swallowed. "And that's why I kissed you, Spencer. Because I care. Because I want something more out of this than I originally realized I wanted. And I get it if you don't want that, but… I guess, it was hard to come to terms with and I ran because I was scared."

Spencer tried to take all of that in and not feel overwhelmed, but it was difficult. What exactly was Derek saying? Did he want to… to be with him? Like in a real relationship? Why on earth would he want that? Why would anyone want that? It was difficult to comprehend. But what wasn't difficult to see was that Derek was dancing around something. He seemed to be carefully orchestrating the way he spoke…

"What painful memories?" Spencer suddenly asked, his eyes taking on that strange, half-desperate look again. Maybe if he didn't acknowledge what Derek had said, the older man wouldn't have the chance to take it all back and shatter his heart.

Derek flinched slightly and looked down at his feet… "I… You know my dad died when I was ten?"

Spencer nodded, remembering that conversation and the flash of guilt he'd felt for asking about Derek's father then.

"Well… it's a long story, but… after Dad died I got into some trouble. A man who ran the local Youth Center, Carl Buford, helped me out. Got me off the streets and out of the gangs and taught me to play football. Without him I'd probably be dead…" Just saying Carl's name left a dirty, filthy taste in Derek's mouth.

"But it didn't come for free."

Spencer felt a sick knot twist in his stomach, having his own flashbacks of when he was thirteen years old, behind the bleachers of his school and desperate for some way to help his mother.

"Carl… he… It started so slowly, I never even saw it coming." Derek's voice broke and there was a dark look in his eyes. "I never thought he wanted anything from me… But then he invited me up to his cabin one weekend. Said he wanted to teach me to fish.

"That first night, he… he offered me a drink. I was almost fourteen, I thought it would be cool, so of course I took it…" he winced as the memory flooded his mind. He wasn't used to talking about it. He had buried the memories so far down in his mind it was almost hard to dredge them back up.

"The first time he just molested me. But the next morning…" Derek shuddered and clenched his eyes shut. "The next morning he … he made me…" he choked on the words, angry, bitter tears starting to burn and sting behind his closed eyes.

He jerked and looked up suddenly when a hand placed itself comfortingly against his shoulder and he peered into wide, understanding eyes.

Spencer offered him a sad, soft smile. "...My mother lost her job when I was thirteen. We didn't have money for food or her medicine and I couldn't get a job. I thought we were going to starve, or maybe social services would come, but I couldn't leave my mom… One of the older boys at my school, he found out about it. He told me… he had a job I could do."

Spencer's voice broke, but he never looked away from Derek's eyes. "I didn't know he wanted me to… to have sex with him. The first time all he wanted was a blowjob. But for the next few months, he asked for more and more. I hated it… I felt… dirty and disgusting. But I needed the money. And soon, a couple of his friends were paying me to do things for them too… and when I lost the fifteenth actual job after I had graduated high school, I turned back to this because… because I knew it would work."

Spencer's voice quavered and he finally looked away, "You were right… the other night. I do hate myself, Derek. I hate doing what I do, but I can't not do it. My mother needs her medicine and we need to eat and I can't have a normal job, not while taking care of her."

Derek moved his hand up and covered Spencer's hand with his own, squeezing his fingers gently. "What if you had help?" he asked quietly.

"What?"

"I could help, Spencer. Your mother… the way she is she needs professional help."

"I know that, but… Derek I can't afford to put her in a hospital that can take care of her. She needs twenty-four seven care and I can't exactly give that to her, but at least I can be there for her."

"I could help you. I could find a good hospital for her; I'll help you pay for it while you're getting back on your feet. I could get you a job. If you'll let me help…"

Spencer frowned, thinking that all of that sounded far too good to be true. "I…" he looked down and saw their hands, intertwined comfortingly around each other. "What you said earlier… about … about caring about me. How exactly…" he winced, not sure he was going to like the answer. "How exactly did you mean that?"

Derek looked thoughtful for a moment. "I… I meant it just how I said it, Spencer. I care about you. A lot. I… I want there to be… to be something more between us than whatever you would this that we're doing now. I… I'm not sure what you want, but…" he frowned, seeming to have a hard time putting into words what he was feeling.

Frowning, looking hesitant, Derek leaned forward slowly, watching Spencer's face before slowly, gently, pressing his lips to the younger man's in a much easier kiss than the one they'd shared before. Spencer was surprised, pleasantly. And he smiled slightly in spite of himself, pressing his lips more firmly against Derek's and almost frowning in disappointment when it ended.

"I care that much." Derek said. "That's what I want, Spencer."

Spencer looked down, blinking back tears. He didn't know why he was crying, he just felt this strange overwhelming emotion twisting in his chest and it was welling over out of his eyes. "I… I think I wouldn't mind that either…" Spencer said slowly, cautiously. "And I… I want… I want to believe you. I really do… But I don't… I mean I'm not… I'm sure…"

Derek licked his lips, staring into those open, reveling brown eyes. He stepped closer to the young man, never once breaking eye contact. "Let me help you trust me, Spencer. Let me show you how much I care… please… Don't shut me out…"

Spencer stared into Derek's eyes and couldn't find it in him to look away. He swallowed hard and took a shaky breath. "…Stay with me tonight…. Please…"

* * *

><p><strong>EN: HA! FINALLY! *Grins* They are sort of technically together… I cannot believe I held out for seventeen chapters. And I've still got so much to cover before it's over… damn. I have a feeling this will be a long story… Hope that's alright with everyone.**

**If I had to name this chapter, it would be "Confessions" seriously, they really opened up this chapter… I liked it ;)**

**OOH! And I have to warn you guys: High likelihood of smut next chapter! You've been warned! **

**Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review! ;)**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of your fantastical reviews guys! I love you! And I'm thrilled that you guys are still enjoying the story!**

**I wrote that last chapter all in one sitting; it just wouldn't leave me alone ;) Plus, I was so happy to finally get to the part where they get together!**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language… SMUT warning! This chapter contains explicit, graphic sex! Don't say I didn't warn you thoroughly beforehand!**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p>Ch. 18<p>

Derek couldn't even voice how happy hearing Spencer say those words made him feel. He never thought, even after realizing the reason for why he cared so damn much about the kid, that he would hear those words coming out of his mouth. He smiled at the younger man and pulled him closer to him. "Of course…" he whispered, pressing his lips to Spencer's again, reveling in the feel of the soft, pliable flesh melding underneath his mouth. This was different from kissing all those women and girls that he had kissed before. Somehow this didn't make him feel like he was trying to force anything. It simply felt… natural.

Spencer's hands were shaking as Derek broke the kiss and looked at him with kind, caring eyes. He looked at Derek with an impossible amount of questions spilling forth behind those hazel colored depths and Derek gently reached up, mesmerized by ever little facet of Spencer's expression, and brushed a hand over his still damp cheek. "…What are we doing?" Spencer whispered. "What… what do you want to do?" he corrected him, pressing his lips together a little awkwardly and fighting the urge he had to look away from those eyes.

"What do _you _want to do?" Derek asked, watching those eyes for even the smallest trace of uncertainty or fear. For any cue that he might have that they needed to stop and take a moment to collect themselves before moving any farther than they already had.

Spencer looked thoughtful for a long moment, considering Derek's question and how best to answer him. "I want… I want a lot of things, Derek. But for right now, I'll settle for just you."

Derek smiled and kissed the young man again, "Does that mean…?" he trailed off, not entirely sure how to ask the question without sounding stupid or, worse, sounding like some inexperienced teenager.

Spencer smiled, taking Derek's hand in his again and intertwining their fingers… "Yes." He nodded, pulling Derek along behind him as he led the way to his bedroom. He couldn't deny the nervous knots twisting and tangling in his stomach; he had never been with anyone before that wasn't paying him. Well, except for unwillingly, but he chose to not think about that painful memory, especially at that moment. This was completely different from that and he didn't want bad memories to ruin it for him.

Derek, for the most part, was trying not to think of Carl. Spencer was certainly not Carl. He would never hurt him or, and he was sure that Spencer was probably having his own personal demons to fight as well… They would just have to take things slow and go at a pace that was comfortable for the two of them. They reached Spencer bedroom and the young man pushed the door open carefully, making sure to close it behind them as they entered.

Derek looked around the space in mild interest, surprised to see how very cluttered it was: littered with books, papers, magazines, pens… a vast array of different things. A model of the _Death Star _was sitting perched up on one of the higher shelves and Derek smiled, glancing toward Spencer, was standing beside him with a slightly nervous look on his face and thinking how utterly right it seemed to see that model there.

He moved toward him, slowly, making very sure that he didn't make one single move that Spencer couldn't anticipate and stop. He smiled gently, encouragingly, at him, and placed his hands on his hips, slicing the distance between their bodies in one easy movement. Spencer was a little more hesitant, but reached up and put his hands on Derek's chest, trying not to think about anything except this moment. Surprisingly, it wasn't as hard as he'd thought it would be.

Spencer initiated the kiss this time, his nervousness and fear seeming to be poured out into the kiss before they evaporated completely. He parted his lips, gasping and ignoring the fact that Derek's soaking clothes were still dripping slightly onto the floor. Feeling just a little unsure, Derek slid his tongue into Spencer's open mouth and the younger man quickly reacted, tangling his tongue with Derek's, moaning slightly in the back of his throat.

Long fingers clawed at Derek's dampened shirt and he shifted slightly without breaking the kiss to allow Spencer to undo the stubborn buttons – and pop of few out – and letting the bothersome fabric slid off of his shoulders and land in a heap on the floor. Fascinated, Spencer's eyes drank in the sculpted muscles that had been hiding beneath Derek's clothes all this time. His fantasies about the man had certainly not done him justice…

Derek's hands moved a little more slowly than Spencer's had, sliding up Spencer's waist and pulling the hem of the t-shirt he was wearing. Spencer reluctantly took a step back to give Derek's more room and lifted his arms to allow the shirt to go up and over his head before shivering slightly a light touch on his abdomen. Derek smiled and slowly ran his hand up across Spencer's chest, catching his eyes and deciding to plunge forward.

He took hold of Spencer's waist again and moved them both toward, lips descending on his again as he pushed the younger man back and he stumbled, ending up sitting partially on the edge of the bed. Spencer gasped suddenly when Derek's lips moved slowly from his mouth and down his jaw, tracing the outline of his throat and pressing softly to his jugular vein for a moment, slipping toward his collar bone and caressing the younger man's smooth, soft skin…

Spencer groaned as Derek's lips moved lower and he ended up kneeling between his legs. He gasped when Derek latched onto one of his nipples and swirled his tongue around the sensitive flesh. "Oh… God…" Spencer blinked. He wasn't used to someone touching his body to make _him_ feel good…

Derek smiled and moved his head lower, lips trailing down Spencer's stomach and stopping when he reached the hem of the pajama pants the young man had changed into. His hands came up and ran carefully up his thighs, relishing every little moan and whimper and shiver… His fingers hooked into the elastic band of the pants and Spencer lifted his hips as he oh so slowly dragged the pants down his legs and shucked them off toward their shirts across the room.

He was more surprised than he probably should have been when he saw that Spencer wasn't wearing anything underneath his pants. He was already semi-hard and Derek leaned forward, stopping for a moment to close his eyes and clear his mind of every little nagging thought. To get rid of everything except thoughts about Spencer. Slowly, he moved forward again and took him into his mouth.

Above him, the younger man gasped, closing his eyes and bucking unintentionally into the heat of Derek's mouth. He'd only ever done this for Carl and this was somehow entirely different. Spencer's light moans didn't make him feel dirty or disgusting and when his long fingered hands wrapped around his head he could only think of how glad he was that Spencer was allowing him to be that close to him and not be suspicious or scared.

Spencer wasn't able to focus on much else besides the heat gathering in his gut as Derek's mouth wrapped around him, his tongue swirling along the hardening flesh, every now and then his teeth scraping lightly along his member sending shivers down his spine. No one had ever done this for him before… And he couldn't seem to bring his mind out of the dazed fog it was in enough to even consider what was going on in the world around him.

It didn't take long before Spencer was gasping loudly, fingers clutching Derek's head tightly and he suddenly bucked forward, erupting into Derek's mouth. The older man was surprised and had to fight back a choke, but still managed to swallow all of Spencer's seed before slowly letting the young man length slip from his mouth. He looked up at him and smiled when Spencer turned foggy, lust clouded eyes down at him and pulled him back up to his face, kissing him again, tongues twisting together as Spencer fell back and Derek landed on top of him.

Spencer's finger grasped at the button on Derek's pants, shoving them down the older man's legs. Derek groaned around Spencer's lips and kicked the pants the rest of the way off, pressing his body against Spencer and gasping at the contact. Spencer was already getting hard again and his own erection ground against him, sending starts sparking behind his eyes. "Holy shit…" he breathed. The younger man beneath him smiled, hands wandering Derek's body, caressing the pliable flesh until slipping down below his waistline and gripped his member between long, experienced fingers.

Derek groaned and nipped at the soft skin behind the younger man's ear, trying to keep his focus now. It had been so long since someone else had touched him there… So long since he'd touched himself there… God… His thought process was already jumbled enough as it was as Spencer's massaged his manhood, heat coiling in his gut until he felt his entire body was going to explode under the pressure.

"S-Stop.." he breathed, his voice shaking slightly under the pending release. Spencer seemed reluctant to stop, but pulled his hand away and turned Derek's face toward him with a question in his eyes again. "I…" Derek swallowed. "I want to go all the way, Spencer… I want to come inside of you…"

Spencer hesitated, worry nagging in his mind.

"If you don't want to –"

"Alright." Spencer nodded. "I… want you in me, Derek. I want to feel you inside of me…"

Derek's breathed a sigh of relief and kissed him again, sitting up. "Lube?" he asked. Spencer motioned to the bedside table and he leaned over, grabbing the small bottle from the drawer and popping the cap open, gasping lightly as he applied it to his hard length and then knelt between Spencer's legs, slowly pressing a slick finger into the younger man's entrance. Spencer gasped and lifted his hips, spreading his legs wider to give him better access as he got his finger all the way inside.

He began to slowly draw his finger out and press back in a few times before adding a second and then a third finger. Spencer was already writhing and moaning beneath him. He drew his fingers out and shifted on the bed, about to enter him when Spencer looked up and stopped him.

"Wait… are you… are you clean?" he asked, his eyes worried again as he realized that neither of them had a condom.

Derek nodded, "Yes." He assured him.

Spencer nodded slowly, "Ok…" he breathed. Derek smiled at him softly and reached up to caress his face for a moment. "Are you alright?" he whispered.

Spencer nodded again, "Yeah…" he smiled back at him. "Never better…"

Derek smiled, reassured again and gripped the younger man's hips, drawing his body upward slightly. He slowly pressed forward, careful not to move to fast or too rough. He grunted, eyes popping open wide as Spencer's tight body surrounded him. "…Fuck…"

Spencer gasped, groaning as Derek's member penetrated him. He was still for a moment before slowly drawing back out and thrusting back in. At first, the pace was slow, but Derek's soon sped up, breathing harder as heat began gathering in his gut again. Spencer bucked forward, eyes wide, and moved in time with his thrusts, groaning and writing beneath him as Derek pumped in and out.

"F-Faster!" Spencer gasped, bucking forward again, eyes fogging over again as he moaned. Derek complied, speeding up, gripping Spencer's hips harder than he had before.

Heat was burning low in Spencer's body, "OH GOD!" Spencer practically screamed, tossing his head back and bucking his hips forward as he came for the second time, his body quivering slightly under the after effects of his orgasm. Derek watched the younger man's face, amazed at beautiful he looked as his body tightened around him. He jerked slightly and came soon after, spilling his seed deep inside the younger man's body before collapsing on top of him.

They were both breathing harshly, their breath mingling together in the heat of the room as Derek slid out of him and rolled over on the bed, grinning when Spencer rolled over and wrapped his arms around his chest. "I… That was amazing…" he whispered.

Derek smiled, pressing another soft kiss to Spencer's lips. "Yes it was…"

They fell asleep not long after, exhausted, bodies tangled together, harsh breaths a distant, easy lullaby that drifted with them into sweet darkness. For the first time in either of their lives, they felt right. Completely and totally at peace with themselves.

Hours later, the two of them still in a deep sleep, the sun peeking over the horizon, Derek's pants emitted a low buzzing. Neither of them woke to the muffled sound of his phone, still lost in dreams of each other, unaware of how much that one missed call would affect everything…

* * *

><p><strong>EN: Yep, I enjoyed writing that ;)**

**Hope you guys liked it! I shall not be even hinting at what that call was about until next chapter, lol. You'll have to suffer…**

**Don't forget to review!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of the *AWESOME* reviews ;) You guys rock! Glad you enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

**And now… onto chapter 19 and the mysterious phone call…hmm… :)**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; language; prostitution…**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p>Ch. 19<p>

Derek grumbled to himself as he woke to the sound of an alarm clock going off and he fumbled around for the snooze button, hitting something warm and soft and… _breathing? _Wait, did that mean last night hadn't been a dream? He sat up sleepily and stared down at the naked form of Spencer Reid, looking so incredibly at ease while sleeping that it was hard to believe he had been through all that he had revealed the night before.

He reached over the young man and hit the snooze button, yawning to himself and sighing as he winced and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. He definitely needed a shower… Looking down at Spencer, he figured they could both use a good shower.

He climbed off the bed, trying not to jar the younger man. Apparently, Spencer was a fairly light sleeper (though Derek wasn't at all sure how he had managed to sleep through that blaringly annoying alarm) because he muttered something sleepily and rolled over, cracking his eyes to stare at him.

Once he spotted Derek standing there, he yawned and stretched, offering the older man a small, soft smile. Derek smiled back, but was slightly preoccupied watching the smooth muscles of Spencer's chest and stomach stretch and contract beautifully as he moved.

"What are you doing?" Spencer asked, sitting up and scrubbing at his eyes.

"I was going to find a shower…." Derek told him. "…Wanna join me?"

Spencer smiled, chuckling lightly and standing from the bed. "Why not?" he asked, "The bathroom is through here…"

He led the way to his bathroom, Derek eyes drinking in ever little curve and angle of Spencer's body as if his life depended on it. He was so damned intoxicating… it was nearly impossible to look away.

"What are we doing today?" Spencer asked, turning to face him as they closed the bathroom door and he turned the shower on, waiting for the water to heat up before stepping in.

"I've got to go to work…" Derek said. "There's still that killer out there for me to catch."

"Right…" Spencer nodded.

"But while I'm on break I could look for hospitals for your mother. And maybe even a job for you."

Spencer thought about that, frowning slightly.

"Can I ask you something?" Derek asked, stepping into the shower with Spencer behind him,

"What?" Spencer asked, relishing the feel of warm water against his skin. Though for the first time in a very long time he didn't feel the need to scrub every inch of his flesh until it was raw to be clean.

"What would you do? If you hadn't stayed to help your mother?"

Spencer thought about that, "I… I graduated when I was thirteen*." He said slowly. "And if I hadn't stayed to take care of my mother, I would've gone to college, gotten a degree in… something. I'm not even sure what, I'm really interested in a lot of different topics."

"You graduated at thirteen?" Derek asked, completely surprised. He knew, just from talking to Spencer, that he was smarter than most… but graduating at thirteen?

Spencer nodded, "I… I skipped a few grades." He said sheepishly. Derek smiled, "A few?"

Spencer blushed slightly, looking down. "And…. Well, the ultimate goal would be to join the FBI."

"The FBI?" Derek was surprised to hear that.

"Yeah." Spencer nodded. "I've always been interested in the way a criminal's mind works, you know? And I want to be the one to take down the bad guys, I want to save innocent people and save lives….

"There's a unit in the FBI called the Behavior Analysis Unit. Um, the BAU. And I… it was my dream to join the BAU."

"The Behavior Analysis Unit?" Spencer frowned. "What do they do?"

"They're profilers…" Spencer explained. "They profile criminals based on their crimes and behavior and help law enforcement find criminals based on the profiles they've developed."

"Interesting… So… you would really rather go back to school then?"

"I… Derek, you can't do that –"

"No listen, you're smart, Spencer. Apparently, even smarter than I thought you were. There have to be scholarships out there for people like that. And I have some money saved up. It should be enough to help with your mother and your school. You can go to school and get whatever degree you want."

Spencer blushed, looking down again. Neither man was really paying attention to the water pouring down around them, washing dried sweat and other bodily fluids off of their bodies. "You would do that?"

"I told you last night, Spencer." Derek assured him. "I don't like seeing you out there on the streets. I want to help you. I want to get you away from this life."

Spencer smiled, "… No one's ever cared that much…"

"What about that JJ woman?" Derek asked, scrubbing water out of his eyes

Spencer frowned, "Well… she does. But she can't help any of us like that. Especially not when she hardly gets paid at all for anything that she does. Most of it's volunteer work."

Derek was sad to hear that. "Well, I can help you. And I want to. I will. If you let me."

Spencer thought about that, "I want you to help me… but I don't want you to do something you're not able to do. I mean, I –"

"I just said I can, Spencer. I'm not losing anything that I need." Derek assured him, reaching up and putting his hands on either side of Spencer's face. "I will do everything in my power to help you."

Spencer smiled slightly, "Then… I'll do whatever I can to make it work. As long as my mother is taken care of, of course."

Derek smiled, "She will be…" he promised, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. "I promise. And one day, as soon as possible, I'll get you to that FBI Academy… Maybe I'll even go with you. Vegas is getting pretty old…"

Spencer chuckled, "I think… that sounds like a great idea."

Suddenly, they jolted apart when they heard the sound of the doorbell, followed shortly by persistent pounding on the front door.

Spencer sighed and jumped out of the shower, followed quickly by Derek. He threw on a pair of boxers and old jeans after drying off quickly and tossing the towel to Derek. "I'll get that. …There are some clothes in the closet that might fit you if your clothes are still wet… I'll be right back."

Derek nodded and watched the younger man disappear down stairs before wrapping the towel around his waist and wandering back into the bedroom, picking up his discarded clothes and frowning as his cell phone fell out of his pocket and he saw the message light blinking on it.

He was frankly surprised that he hadn't heard it ring… or that it hadn't died. But nevertheless, he pressed the cell phone to his ear as he listened to the message starting to play.

_"Morgan, it's Bradley. The finger print results from AFIS came in the morning. Looks like you were wrong, it wasn't a tourist. He was some local lawyer dude. Name was William Reid. He's got a son and wife living out in the suburbs… I'm heading out there to notify them in a few hours. Meet me at the station if you want to –"_

Derek had stopped listening to the message by that point and was throwing on his still slightly dampened jeans hurriedly. He would bet anything that Bradley was downstairs now, telling Spencer that his father had been murdered. He couldn't let him go through that alone. Especially not with some jag-off like Bradley giving him the news.

He had barely gotten out the bedroom door when he suddenly heard Spencer's voice raised in anger, tinged with fear.

"Get off of me!"

Blinking, Derek doubled his pace, shooting past Diana, who was coming out of her bedroom sleepily with a confused look on her face. He was downstairs and in the foyer in less than a minute, blinking in shock and then rage when he saw Bradley standing there in the door, pressed against Spencer, pinning the younger man to the wall behind him with a hungry, predatory look on his face.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Derek demanded, his hand going automatically to his hip, though his gun was still sitting on the nightstand in his apartment.

Bradley jerked away from Spencer and stared at Derek, completely in shock. "Derek? What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Better question: What do you think you're doing?"

"Do you realize this kid is a hooker? I've seen him working the streets out here…"

"What's your point?" Derek's eyes shot to Spencer's face and he felt a physical pang hit him in the chest. "Answer my question, Bradley…"

Bradley stuttered, clearly not having an answer that would make Derek happy. Not that Derek thought there was such an answer.

"Derek…" Spencer's voice was a soft squeak as he stared pleadingly into the other man's eyes, terrified.

Derek pressed his lips together and took a step closer to the two of them, causing Bradley to step back let go of him.

"I was here to notify him. His father was the John that was killed the other night."

"What?" Spencer's eyes got wide and he stared at him in shock. "M-My dad's dead?"

"Bradley!" Derek scowled.

Bradley didn't seem so concerned. "What does it matter," he muttered. "It's not like he could've cared too much. He's just a prostitute, Morgan."

Spencer frowned, wincing and still looking uncomfortable, but suddenly anger was burning behind his eyes.

"I wasn't 'just a prostitute' the other night!" he spat.

"What?" Derek scowled. "What are you talking about Spencer?"

Spencer's eyes shot from Bradley to Derek. "… He… he's the man who raped me." He whispered. "When you found me that night."

Bradley blinked. "It's not rape if you're a fucking whore for a living!"

"What?" Derek had fury burning in his eyes. "_He _is the man who hurt you?"

Bradley swallowed hard, hearing that hate in Derek's voice and seeing the rage in his eyes. He took a step back and glanced toward Spencer with anger before bolting out the door with Derek right behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>EN: So… a lot of crap happened this chapter, huh?**

**We found out who the rapist is (he still needs to be punished) William Reid got his just deserts (sadly, his death was too quick, but what an ironic way to go, huh?) and now all that's left is to get Spencey off the streets and there's the little matter of the serial killer, can't forget him can we?**

**Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of your amazing reviews ;) I know I threw you guys for a loop last chapter… but it may shock you to know that I actually planned from the beginning for Bradley to be the rapist… **

**Now all that has to happen is Derek has to be beat the crap out of him ;)**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p>Ch. 20<p>

Spencer stood there in the door, staring after Derek and Bradley as Derek chased him out the door and down the drive. Bradley was fast, but Derek was faster and he had Bradley on the ground before they reached the main road. Spencer could hear them both swearing loudly as Bradley struggled to get out of the other man's grip and Derek slammed a fist into his face to keep him still.

He hesitated, not sure if he should go out there and try to help Derek, or if he should continue standing there watching. He chewed his lower lip and started to go outside when he heard footsteps on the stairs and turned to see his mother standing there, a confused and worried look in her eyes.

"Spencer…" she frowned, moving closer to where he was standing. "What was he talking about? Did… did you say that man raped you? And… he said… that you were a prostitute?" she pressed her lips together and stared into his eyes. "What did he mean by that?"

Spencer felt his throat tighten as he stared at his mother. This was a conversation he had never wanted to have with her. She shouldn't have to know what he had been doing, what he had sacrificed to make sure that she was taken care of and stable.

"Spencer?" Diana frowned, "What's going on?"

He looked away from her, out toward the two cops still struggling on the ground. It looked like Derek was trying to pull Bradley's cuffs off of his belt to cuff him.

He licked his lips nervously and turned back to his mother. "Dad… Dad was murdered." He said, wincing slightly. That wasn't what she was asking, but it was easier to say that than to admit that he was – had been – selling himself since he was a kid.

Diana blinked, "He was?" she frowned, clearly trying to process that information. It didn't really take her long. As far as she was concerned, William Reid had been dead for nearly ten years. Ever since the day that he had walked out on her and Spencer.

"What does that have to do with what you said? Or what that man said?"

Spencer fidgeted, "Mom, I… I don't know how to tell you…" he said, his voice sounding slightly broken and unsure. Diana's face softened and she approached her son, a faint trace of a smile on her face.

"Spencer, just tell me. I'm your mother, remember? Nothing you say can make me disappointed in you…"

He smiled sadly, "It's not disappointment I'm worried about…" he swallowed and took a deep breath. "I… Do you remember, when I was in school, when you lost your job?"

She nodded slowly, frowning. "Vaguely. You know the medication makes some things muddled. I really hate taking it." She made a face and Spencer sighed, pressing his lips together.

"I know." He said quietly. "And, well, do you remember, we didn't know how you were going to pay for your medication. Or food, or the bills or anything." He said quietly. Diana nodded, frowning as she watched her son's face nervously.

"And you remember that I told you I'd found a job afterschool to help pay for everything?" Spencer continued. "I never told you, but… that job… Some of the older kids at school were paying me to… to do things for them. Sexual things."

He looked down, feeling sick. His face was red and his throat was tight. Diana's eyes widened as she heard that and she moved closer to her son, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

"Oh, Spencer… You… I never would have let you do that if you had just told me." She sounded mortified. "I am so sorry…"

He looked back up at her and put his hand over hers. "And after… after I lost that job with Loughery's I… I couldn't think of anything else to do except what I already knew worked."

Diana blinked, shocked. "All these years… you've been… selling yourself? Spencer why didn't you say anything! You are my son, I can't believe you thought that it was so bad that you had to do that. If I had known –"

"If you had known, you wouldn't have let me." Spencer whispered, nodding. "Which is exactly why I never told you. I didn't want you to feel guilty about this, it was my decision and I did it because we needed the money, Mom. We couldn't survive any other way, Mom."

Diana looked horrified. "This is all my fault." She said. "If you hadn't stayed to take care of me you could've went off to college and done something important with your life."

"I can still do that, Mom." Spencer assured her quickly. "Derek said he's going to help me. He said he's going to find somewhere where you can be taken care of like you deserve, he actually wants to help us, Mom."

Diana stared at her son, surprise, shock, guilt and horror all mingling behind her eyes at the same time as she looked back out the door where Derek was yanking Bradley up by the chain on the cuffs that he had finally managed to snap tightly around his wrists.

"Do you trust him, Spencer?" she asked quietly. She stared into her son's eyes, taking in everything that he had just told her. She didn't want to leave her home, but she knew that she needed professional care. She also knew that Spencer had spent the majority of his life making sacrifices for her. She was his mother, and it was about time she made some sacrifices for him.

Spencer nodded, "I do." He said, glancing toward Derek, who was dragging Bradley up the drive way now. "I can't even explain why I trust him, I just know that I do. He cares about me…"

Diana smiled, lowering her hand and glancing toward the other man again and squeezing her son's fingers gently between her own. "Then I trust him too." She said. "Just… promise me one thing Spencer."

"What?"

"Promise me you won't go back to those streets again."

He nodded. "I'll do everything I can." He assured her.

**~/.\~**

Derek dragged Bradley, cursing and swearing, into the house again, cuffs probably tighter than strictly necessary. Not that he cared. He was having an incredibly difficult time not beating the shit out of the sorry excuse for a living person at the moment. It wasn't his concern if the bastard got a few bruises and scrapes. Though he did enjoy the blood running down his chin from where he'd punched him and his fist itched to hit him again.

He spotted Diana and Spencer, still standing in the doorway and wasn't even sure what to say. Judging from the looks on their faces they had just had a very heavy conversation. He swallowed, looking into Diana's eyes for a moment and again getting that eerie feeling that she could see right into the very depths of his soul.

"Spencer, can you come with me to the police station?" Derek asked, awkwardly yanking Bradley back as he tried again to pull away. "It's a little late, but I think you've got a rape to report."

Spencer stared at Bradley, a mixture of fear and hate mingling in his eyes and he nodded slowly. "Alright…" he said cautiously.

Derek offered him a gentle, reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Spencer. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

Spencer smiled, nodding and feeling better just hearing that from the older man. "Ok. Just give me a minute to get ready."

**~/.\~**

The ride to the police station was anything but a quiet one. Bradley shot insults and swears at both of them the entire time. He demanded several times to know what Derek had been doing there, but neither man would answer him. Realizing that he wasn't going to get a straight answer from either of them, Bradley instead began threatening them. Saying that they wouldn't do anything to him. All he had done was rape a prostitute.

Derek's knuckles were tightened white over the steering wheel, but he ignored the other man. He was having a hard time just focusing on driving correctly, and he knew he did have to come up with some, logical, reason for why he was at Spencer's house.

He wasn't sure what to tell them, but he decided against the truth almost immediately. He could say he was there helping him with his mother. Diana hadn't been pleased when they left her behind at the house, but she seemed to have a difficult time saying 'no' to Spencer, so she sat stubbornly in the living room when they left.

Helping a kid he'd met on the street with his mentally ill mother seemed like a decent enough excuse. There were a few cops on the force that helped young prostitutes they felt sorry for. Giving them money, a couple of days to crash at their place. Of course, they were usually female prostitutes and the cops usually helped because of a romantic interest. Or, sexual interest to be more exact.

Still, it wasn't entirely unheard out. And with Derek, it was even fairly believable. Technically, it was the truth anyway.

They arrived at the station in about twenty minutes and Derek dragged Bradley out of the SUV roughly, Spencer following unsurely behind them. He carried the other officer toward Detective Sergeant Cellucci's office and Spencer stood awkwardly outside near the entrance into the bullpen. He felt incredibly out of place standing there.

He stumbled backwards slightly when someone ran into him.

"Oh, sorry!" a female voice spoke kindly. "Wait, Spencer?" she frowned and he turned to see Detective Prentiss standing there, a faintly confused look on her face as she studied him.

He looked down, fiddling with his fingers uncomfortably.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Um… Derek brought me here."

"What for?" Her eyes narrowed and her brows came down heavily over her eyes. If Derek had tried to arrest him, she was going to kill that stubborn jackass.

"I… My father was killed."

"What?" Her dark eyes widened.

"William Reid," Spencer cleared his throat, "And, um… another detective came to the house to.. notify me. And I recognized him."

Prentiss frowned. William Reid, she knew. He was the John from their last murder. And Bradley had been the cop who went to notify Spencer. What had her partner done this time?

"How did you recognize him?" she asked gently.

Spencer's eyes looked slowly and he sighed, "A little more than a month ago, he raped me."

"What!" she stared at him, shocked. "Where's Derek?"

Spencer pointed toward the office where Derek was standing, still arguing with a tall, imposing looking man. Prentiss's jaw set and she glared daggers at the back of Bradley's head.

"I'll be back in a minute, Spencer." She assured her. "Just stay here."

She stormed off, leaving Spencer standing there alone again, confused, worried and uncomfortable. He wasn't sure why Derek was even doing this, it could potentially hurt his career if they ever found out what he had been doing at his house.

And he didn't really know how they expected to prove that Bradley had raped him. It had happened so long ago, there was no DNA evidence left and the scarring wasn't exactly prove, considering what Spencer did for a living. The way he saw it, it was really his word against Bradley's and … well, who was going to take a prostitute's word over a cop's?

* * *

><p><strong>EN: So… Bradley's an ass and totally needs to be punished. But Spencer is right… it seems highly unlikely at the moment, doesn't it?**

**Hmm… You'll have to wait, I suppose ;)**

**At least he finally opened up to Diana… poor Spencer, that had to be tough….**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of your amazing reviews guys! I heart you! Super glad you're still interested in this story! XD**

**Ah, Bradley… so many of you want him to rot in hell (so do I) and I can assure he will be punished ;)**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; language; prostitution**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p>Ch. 21<p>

"Yes, sir, that is exactly what he said. And I will testify to that."

Bradley grumbled where he stood, pinned between Prentiss and Derek as the two other detectives argued their case against him to his boss. "Stupid bastard."

"You admitted it?" Cellucci's incredulous eyes turned to Bradley. He had known the officer to do a lot of stupid, incredibly thoughtless things, but to rape someone?

"Yes, he did." Derek growled, turning hateful eyes toward the other cop. Never before had he felt that someone had so sickened him than at that moment. He was still fighting back the physical urge to beat the ever living shit out of him.

Prentiss, standing on the other side of him, looked equally as pissed off. She had barged into the small office without knocking and immediately began demanding to know why Bradley wasn't in a holding cell. She apparently didn't care that he hadn't been 'officially' charged with anything.

And after hearing Derek's story, with interruptions, protests and insults from Bradley, Cellucci had to say that the case looked bleak for Bradley. He'd been on the force nearly fifteen years, he had a slew of disciplinary actions filed against him, several complaints of police brutality that upon investigation had turned nothing up. Against that was Derek, who, while not having been a cop quite six years, had an impeccable record… And it certainly didn't help that Bradley's own partner, Prentiss, was backing up Derek.

"Where is this Spencer kid?" Cellucci demanded, cutting off a simultaneous remark from all three angry detectives in front of him.

"Outside." Derek answered, "He agreed to come with me and file a report."

"Alright." Cellucci took a deep breath, "Prentiss, take Bradley to a holding cell."

"WHAT? But… sir, I –"

"You are a pathetic excuse for a cop. Derek read you your rights when he cuffed you, correct?"

"…Yes." Bradley grunted. Not that he hadn't known his rights before.

"Then you should have no problem figuring out how things work from here. You'll be formally charged in a couple of hours. Until then, you can squat with the rest of the trash like yourself, got it?"

Bradley made a face, "You're taking some hooker's word over mine?"

"No, I'm taking your word for it, Bradley. According to Detective Morgan here, you were very forthcoming in Mr. Reid's house."

Prentiss smirked triumphantly and dragged the pissed off cop out of the office and toward the holding cells.

"Now… Morgan, tell me again exactly what you were doing at Spencer's house?"

"I ran into him about a month ago, on the street. A few days later, I found him beat up and raped. He didn't want to file a report, I let it go. When Prentiss and I were talking to local prostitutes with her social worker friend, I ran into him again and decided to help. His mom is… mentally ill. I was there this morning, helping him with her when Bradley showed up and Spencer told me he was the man who raped him. After which, Bradley said he hadn't done anything other than rape a prostitute and then tried to run. I caught him on the drive and arrested him there."

Cellucci nodded slowly, "And I suppose that's what you're going to put in your report then?"

"Every word." Derek nodded curtly to his boss.

Cellucci pressed his lips together, "Alright." He didn't sound very convinced but after hearing what he had told him about Bradley, he wasn't too keen to dig further into it at the moment.

"Is Spencer going to be willing to testify?"

"I'm sure he will." Derek nodded. "Whenever the time comes."

"Alright then…" Cellucci nodded. "I'll handle Bradley for now. You and Wells focus on these serial killings and Prentiss will be back to help you soon. Send Spencer to file a report, ok? I'll interview him later and make sure they get his full statement."

Derek nodded and hurriedly exited the room, trying to get his thoughts off of Spencer and Bradley back to the case he'd been working for the past month and a half.

**~/.\~**

Spencer was eternally grateful when the officer taking his statement and writing up the report allowed him to leave. He had been worried that they would question him right then and there, but according to Derek, they believed him and that Detective Sergeant Cellucci would be talking to him later.

He wasn't really sure where to go, and despite all that Derek had told him, he found himself wandering back toward his corner. Amber was standing there, leaning against the wall, chewing on her lips nervously. When she spotted him, she threw her arms around him suddenly.

"I was so worried the cops were going to come and tell me that they found your body…" Amber said.

"I'm fine," Spencer assured her. "The cops said he was alternating between male and female prostitutes anyway, remember?"

She nodded, "Yeah, but… you never know." She stepped back. "Where were you?"

Spencer looked down, frowning. Amber was his friend. Granted, he didn't share much of his personal life with her, she didn't share much of hers either. "I… I was at the police station."

"What? What happened?"

He swallowed hard, "Filing a rape report."

"You did?" Amber looked surprised. "Good… maybe they'll catch the stinking bastard."

"They already did." Spencer said quietly, looking away from her for a moment and staring out at the traffic as it moved past them.

"Already?"

"Yeah. He was a cop." Spencer's voice hardened slightly as he thought back to Bradley walking into his home, attacking him like that. He wasn't sure how he would ever be able to thank Derek for being there for him.

Amber scowled, leaning back against the wall, muttering "Typical. Disgusting pigs…"

Then she frowned and turned to look back at the young man. "Wait… Who got you to go to the police?"

"Derek did. He… he says he's going to help me get off the streets." Spencer said cautiously.

Amber smiled slightly, "I knew he was one of the good guys." She said. "If anyone can get off these streets, it's you, Spence. You're smarter than anyone I know…"

Spencer frowned slightly, "Maybe…" he said. "But if he can help me, I can help you, Amber. We could get out of this together."

She shook her head, "You know I can't Spencer. Jacob would kill me."

"Not if he can't find you." Spencer pointed out.

Amber sighed, "Maybe someday. JJ's been trying to get us all off the streets. But not now, Spence… I can't."

Before he could say anything else to her, she headed toward a red car as it pulled the curb and she leaned into the passenger window. Spencer sighed as she climbed in and he only stood there for a few minutes longer. He remembered telling his mother that he was going to do everything in his power to stay off the streets, and standing at the corner where he worked wasn't exactly helping him. The only thing for him to do was go home…

**~/.\~**

"So," Prentiss leaned against Derek's desk. Wells had gone to get coffee from the break room and they had been spending the majority of the day avoiding all talk of Bradley, attempting to focus on the case. "What exactly were you doing at Spencer's house this morning?"

Derek looked up and frowned at her, "I told you and Cellucci –"

"And neither of us questioned you, but neither of us actually believe you, Derek. So talk. Now."

Derek made a face at her, "Emily, drop it."

"You mean like the other night?" Prentiss asked, raising a brow. "Look, Derek, something happened. What?"

Derek chewed his lip, "Nothing. I was there to help Spencer with his mother, Prentiss."

She sighed, "I have never met anyone quite as stubborn as you, you know that?"

Wells came running back into the bullpen a moment later, breaking their tense silence. "They found another body." He said, breathless. "The call just came in. He only waited 3 days this time."

"Damn it," Derek swore, but for once wasn't immediately assaulted with images of Spencer's broken body on the ground. As long as he was off the streets, Derek would be able to sleep better at night.

They grabbed their guns and headed toward the alley where a tourist had stumbled onto a young female prostitute and her John, lying dead.

CSI vans were parked at either end of the alley and again, reports were edged around the bright yellow tape. Derek scowled as he pushed his way through, "Were they ID'd yet?" he asked, turning to Wells.

"Not yet. They haven't checked for any ID on the John and this time a tourist found them instead of a local."

Derek shook his head as he walked toward the bodies in the dim light. The John was a younger man, small and dark haired. The female was lying on her stomach, bullet wounds evident in her back, bloody spilling out on her dress.

He knelt beside her body, pulling on a pair of latex gloves, and carefully tilted her face toward him before his eyes popped open and he gasped, stumbling back.

"What is it?" Prentiss asked, frowning.

"It's… She…" he stared at the other cop in shock, his thoughts not coherently forming. It took him a moment to get his voice back and he swallowed hard before finally answering.

"It's Amber…"

* * *

><p><strong>EN: Please, please don't hate me! I loved Amber, I hated having to write that, but it's just how it has to happen. And it's not my fault, blame Lola! She made me write it! *winces***

**Anyway… ehem… I bet you guys thought I forgot about our Serial Killer? Well I didn't… **

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! (sort of?) Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Well, I'm glad that Amber's death didn't shock you all into hating me… It was certainly a little obvious that it was going to happen eventually… Sad, but true. And I truly hated writing that because Amber was my OC and I killed her :(**

**But, in the immortal words of Macbeth, "What's done is done"**

**Thanks so much for all of the fantastical reviews guys! ;) I love you, seriously! LOL… I never expected this story to be this long…**

**So, moving on… Chapter 22!**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language… blah, blah, blah…**

* * *

><p>Ch. 22<p>

Spencer sighed as he came back down stairs. It had certainly been a long and eventful day. Not even twenty minutes after he had arrived back home, Detective Sergeant Cellucci had shown up to interview him about what had happened the night that he was raped. The man was tall and thick muscled and incredibly intimidating, but Spencer stumbled and grimaced his way through the story and was surprised when the detective nodded sadly and looked him in the eyes saying, "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Mr. Reid. We're going to make sure this gets taken care of."

After Detective Cellucci left, Spencer and Diana sat down to talk more on the couch. They must have talked for hours about the path their lives had been on. Diana was adamant that she could handle having to be placed in a hospital. She knew well enough that she needed the help and she didn't want to stand as a hindrance to her son's life, knowingly or unknowingly, any longer.

Diana had taken her medication and gone to bed early that night, leaving Spencer with little else to do except sit and mull over the events of the day. He had definitely not expected things to end up like they had. He'd figured his rapist would forever go unknown, living as a shadow in the back of his mind, and to learn that it was a cop had shaken him a little, not that he was all that surprised. It wasn't like he was the first prostitute to be raped by a cop.

He just getting ready to go upstairs and take a shower when he heard someone knocking on the door. He sighed and went to answer it, opening the door to see Derek and JJ standing there, tears rolling down JJ's cheeks.

"JJ?" Spencer's eyes went from one to the other, taking in the horrible, sad expressions both of them wore. "What happened? Are you alright?"

The blond woman shook her head slightly, "Can we please come in, Spencer?" she asked quietly.

Nervous, a feeling of dread knotting his stomach, Spencer stepped back to allow the them inside and led them to the living room.

"Emily called me a couple of hours ago…" JJ said quietly. "Because there was another killing and they wanted me to… to ID her."

Spencer's stomach bottomed out. No. No, it couldn't possibly be…

Derek leaned forward and took his hand in his, "Spencer… it… it was Amber." He said quietly.

Spencer stared into Derek's eyes for what felt like an eternity. He was trying to find any trace at all; any hint that this was some horrible joke. He'd lost several friends to this killer, but he hadn't lost someone as close as Amber. They had been friends for so long… She wasn't even seventeen years old yet, she didn't deserve to die. Especially not like that.

He wasn't aware that he was sobbing until Derek moved to sit next to him and put a comforting arm around his shoulder. "She's dead?" Spencer asked, turning horrified, teary eyes toward Derek.

He nodded sadly, "I'm sorry, Spencer." He said quietly.

Spencer frowned, "What are sorry for?" he asked suddenly. "You didn't kill her."

"I… I know, Spencer." Derek sighed, looking toward the blond woman sitting opposite them. JJ leaned forward and took Spencer's other hand.

"They're going to find who did this, Spencer." JJ told him. "They're all working hard."

Spencer frowned, "I want to help."

"What?" Derek frowned, looking at Spencer incredulously.

"I want to help you." Spencer insisted. "This guy is killing prostitutes. He's been watching us on the streets for at least two months, I'm sure he's seen me. He alternates between male and female… Amber…" he choked a little and looked down, "Amber was the last so that means that he's going to go after a male this time, right?"

"I am not letting you put yourself in danger, Spencer." Derek protested. "That is out of the question."

"But I can help." Spencer insisted. "I want to. I want this bastard behind bars."

The sincerity in his voice surprised JJ and Derek, but they understood. Spencer had lost friends because of this killer and he wanted to put a stop to him before he lost anyone else. The tears leaking down his chin dripped and splattered, but he looked at Derek with determined eyes.

"I know I can help you, Derek. All we have to do is get the killer to follow me into an alley with a John –"

"Not happening." Derek's voice was hard and he shook his head. "Spencer, you're not a cop, I'm not letting you risk your life for an investigation and I'm sure as hell not letting you back on the streets to do it."

Spencer frowned at him, "Derek, this will work." He insisted.

"Spencer, I think Derek's right. Think about it, you could get yourself killed. Diana needs you, Spence."

"I know." Spencer assured them both. "But… I need to do this. I need to help. Please."

Derek shook his head, "I can't let you go out there and risk your life, Spencer. Not like this, especially."

"Just working on the streets I was risking my life every single day." Spencer pointed out. "I'm used to it."

Derek shook his head, "No, Spencer. You aren't going back out on those streets. I told you, I'm going to get you out of this life and you can't turn back to it now. I can't let you."

Spencer frowned at him, narrowing his eyes. "Look, Derek it's my life. I want to do this. I want to help you find this bastard and put him behind bars. Please, let me do this one thing."

"Absolutely not." Derek shook his head.

"Derek –"

"No, it's too risky."

Spencer scowled, "Derek, it's my life. You can't stop me from doing this. I'm going to try with or without your help, but it would probably be better with your help. Otherwise I'll likely end up dead and isn't that exactly what you're trying to prevent?"

Derek scowled at him, "Spencer, I cannot just let you –"

"Let me? You keep saying that like you have some say in this, Derek. In my life. I don't care what you 'let' me do; I'll do whatever I feel is the right thing to do."

"Um…" JJ leaned forward, frowning between the two of them. "What if you were with Spencer? To protect him?"

Derek frowned, "Don't tell me you approve of this?"

"Well, I'm not saying that, Derek." JJ shook her head. "But I've known him longer than you have and he's stubborn. You aren't going to be able to talk him out of this. So, compromise. Spencer wants to do this to catch your killer and you don't want him to because it's not safe. What if _you _were the John with Spencer?"

Derek blinked, considering that option.

"You could protect Spencer easily that way." JJ pointed out.

Spencer wasn't exactly thrilled about that idea, he didn't want Derek to get hurt but he realized it was probably the only way for him to convince Derek that his idea was a doable one.

"I still don't like it…" Derek shook his head.

"Derek –" Spencer started to protest again, but the older man held his hand up.

"But, I'll talk to Cellucci and the others in the morning and see what they think. I can't guarantee that they'll go along with it, but I can try."

Spencer sighed in relief. "Thank you, Derek." He said, leaning against him slightly.

JJ watched the two of them with keen eyes, "How long have you two been…?"

"Been what?" Derek asked, frowning at her.

She smiled slightly, "A couple of course."

The two men looked at each other, surprised. "What are you talking about?" Spencer asked, frowning.

JJ smiled, "Spencer, come on, I've known you for years. You're never been so comfortable around someone you hardly knew before. And it took me nearly a year to get you to have more than a two minute conversation with you."

Spencer pressed his lips together awkwardly and glanced at Derek, who wrapped his arm around him tighter, smiling at him softly. "She's observant."

"Not really," JJ shook her head. "You two aren't exactly hiding it, sitting all curled up next to each other."

Spencer frowned and they shifted self-consciously away from each other just a little.

"How long?" she asked again, raising a brow.

"Not long." Derek answered finally. "I… well, I've been trying to help him for a while, but until last night…" he paused, looking thoughtful and Spencer finished for him.

"Until last night, we were just… friends, I guess."

JJ nodded, "Are you really going to help him get off the streets?" she asked. "Because I've been trying for years and he's more stubborn than anyone I've ever met."

"I am." Derek nodded. "I'm going to help him get his mom the help she needs and get him back to college where he wants to be."

Spencer smiled slightly, looking down and not saying anything much. It felt strange, to talk about it out loud with another person. He'd wanted to get away from his life pretty much since it had become his life, but to think that the possibility was so real he could almost see it, left an odd feeling in his chest. He wasn't sure if it was nervousness or excitement… maybe a little of both…

"If you ever need me, I'll be happy to help." JJ told them, smiling. Her cell phone started buzzing and she dug it out of her bag before sighing, "I have to go." She said. "But please, call me if you need anything."

"Of course." Derek and Spencer assured her at the same time.

They led her out to the door and said goodbye before heading back into the living room and falling onto the couch next to each other.

"Are you sure about this, Spencer? Try trying to catch the killer?"

"I am." Spencer nodded. "I want to help, Derek. I know I can help."

Derek reached down and took Spencer's hand in his, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. "I don't like this. I don't want you to get yourself hurt."

Spencer smiled at him, "Don't worry, Derek. As long as you're there, I'm sure I'll be fine."

Derek chuckled lightly and met Spencer's eyes. "You've got to promise me that if you change your mind, if you want to back out, you'll let me know."

"I'm not going to change my mind." Spencer assured him.

"Fair enough. And I want you to promise that no matter what happens, you won't do something stupid to get yourself hurt. Let me lead this thing, alright?"

Spencer made a face at that, but nodded reluctantly. "Alright… I'll do my best."

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes. "I guess that's the best I'm going to get out of you,"

"Damn straight." Spencer nodded. "If I think I can do something to stop him, I'm going to."

"And if you get yourself hurt or killed, I'm going to kill you."

* * *

><p><strong>EN: Hmm, so they have formulated a plan to catch the killer… I wonder if it'll work…**

**And JJ, how oh so observant of her ;) I love her character so much…**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of you awesome reviews guys! I heart you!**

**So, Derek and Spencer have come up with a … risky plan to catch the killer. So now all they have to do is make it work without getting themselves killed… Should be easy, huh?**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p>Ch. 23<p>

"This is insane…" Wells shook his head, "You want us to let this kid risk his life for the case?"

Derek glanced at Spencer, who was sitting at his desk, pressing his lips together and shifting uncomfortably. When Derek had told him that he was going to talk to the other cops, he hadn't expected to be dragged along as well.

He hadn't said anything yet, he was just sitting there, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible while listening to Derek attempt to explain their –his- plan to his partner and Detective Prentiss.

Wells seemed ok enough, thin but strong jawed and muscled. He hadn't sneered or curled his nose when hearing that Spencer was a _former _prostitute. But after hearing the plan laid out, he and Prentiss both seemed incredibly skeptical of it.

Derek sighed, "I'll be with him," he assured them. "And you two can cover us from the roof tops above the alley. The risk is minimal at best. It's pretty much our only shot at catching this guy, he never even gets close to the victims, all he leaves behind are the bullets in their bodies."

"I don't like this, Morgan." Prentiss shook her head. "It's definitely too risky. You could both get yourselves killed, I'm sure Cellucci wouldn't like it."

"Which is why we don't tell him and put it in our reports later." Derek insisted. "I know it's not usual, I know it's dangerous but…"

"I want to do it." Spencer finally spoke up, leaning forward. "Whoever this man is, he's killed several of my friends and he'll just keep on killing them unless you can catch him and put him where he belongs. I can help you do that."

"Look, Mr. Reid, I understand –"

"My name is Spencer."

"Spencer," Wells corrected himself. "I understand that this is a tough situation for you, but the fact is… you aren't a cop and we can't just let you risk your life to help with our investigation."

"Well," Spencer frowned. "It happens to be my life, Detective Wells, and whether or not you think I should risk it to catch a killer doesn't make a difference to me. Either way, with or without you, I'm going to try and lure him out."

"Spencer," Prentiss stare at him with wide eyes, "Have you lost your mind? You'd only end up getting yourself killed. We can solve this case without endangering the life of a civilian –"

"But not quickly." Spencer argued. "This way you can catch your killer without having to find any more bodies."

"With the possible exception of your own." Prentiss pointed out.

Spencer frowned, "Well that's a risk that I am perfectly willing to take. And like Derek said, he'll be there and you'll be there to act fast if something bad does happen. I know it seems unorthodox and dangerous, but it's your best chance at catching him."

Prentiss glanced toward Wells, both detectives still clearly skeptical about the entire situation. But what other options did they have?

"Well, …Spencer, you make a good argument." Wells said, glancing toward Derek, who looked somewhat hopeful.

Prentiss sighed, "We'll try." She said. "But I don't see how we're going to lure him out. He's picking off prostitutes and their Johns in alleys, there isn't even a fixed time-frame any more, the guy's escalating rapidly."

Spencer nodded, "But all you have to do is provide bait, correct? A male prostitute, in an alley. And according to what I've heard on the news, so far all the male victims were killed late at night, so that's probably the best time to set him up."

The two obviously reluctant detectives nodded. "Alright fine." Wells sighed.

"But we're only going to give you three days. If we don't have him by then, we're going to call it a fail and move on, ok, Spencer? We don't need you out there trying to get yourself killed because of this."

Spencer and Derek nodded their thanks.

"I won't." Spencer promised. "And this will work. I'm sure of it."

**~/.\~**

Spencer could feel his nerves tingling as he stood on the corner where he usually stood. It felt strange, in a bad way, to be there without Amber. Knowing that Amber would never stand there again and try to cheer him up with some non-sense joke or menial good news. He watched car after car flash by, waiting and watching for Derek.

Derek hadn't been happy about doing things like this, he had wanted to be with Spencer every second, but Spencer insisted that he was fine and he wasn't in any danger until they stepped into that alley anyway. Besides, the killer was likely watching them and waiting for the perfect moment and for this to work they had to do things exactly how they would have been done if Derek were an actual John.

Relief flooded the young man when he spotted Derek's SUV pull toward the curb and the window rolled down slowly. He could just make out Derek motioning him forward and he approached quickly, trying to control his jitter nerves that were making his legs shake and jerk slightly.

He leaned in the window and watched Derek's relieved face sigh.

"You alright?" Derek asked, studying him.

"I'm fine. Is everything ready?"

"Yeah." Derek nodded, turning his head around to watch other people around them. He was sure it was just paranoia, but he could almost feel someone's eyes watching them. Studying them.

"Let's go." Derek said, waving Spencer in the car. The last thing he wanted was for the killer to change MO and suddenly take a shot at them right then and there. It was best to get away from the crowd of people and traffic as soon as possible.

Spencer slid into the car quickly and the window rolled up as they drove off toward the alley. "Are you sure about this?" Derek asked, glancing toward Spencer. The young man was tapping his foot restlessly.

"I'm sure." Spencer nodded. "We've already gotten this far, Derek. There's no point in turning back now, is there?"

Derek sighed. There was no way Spencer would be talked out of this, he realized, which was the only reason that he was still willing to do this. It was dangerous and risky and he did not like it, but Spencer refused to back down.

They pulled off the road, parking near the mouth of a dark, cold alley much like the one that they had first met in… And the one where Spencer had been raped. Spencer swallowed and stepped out of the car, followed closely by Derek as they made their way further into the alley.

They couldn't see Wells and Prentiss on the roof tops, but that was the point; they didn't want to alert the killer of anything unusual or out of the ordinary about this. Spencer stopped about half-way through the small space and turned to look at Derek, who looked just about as nervous and worried as he was.

"We have to make this look real," Spencer reminded Derek quietly as the cop stood in front of him looking deep in thought.

Slowly, Derek's eyes traveled to the roof tops and he nodded, "I know…" he whispered. He took another step forward, pushing Spencer back into the wall and bringing his hand – still shaking slightly from nerves – to rest of the young man's hips before sliding them up and along the front of the shirt he was wearing and lowering his mouth the pulsing vein in his throat.

Spencer sighed when Derek's hands moved over his body, still far more gentle and caring than any John had ever been, and had to remind himself to remain focused on the task at hand.

They stood like that for about two minutes, maybe a little less, when they froze and looked up, hearing the faint sound of footsteps and metal clinking on metal.

Derek glanced up toward the roofs on instinct, but it was too dark to really see anything from where he was standing. He hoped that they could spot him and suddenly heard Wells's voice through the speaker in his head.

_"There's a man near the end of the alley." _Wells's voice cracked through the speaker Derek wore in his ear. _"We can't spot a gun yet."_

Derek tensed and turned to look back at Spencer, who was staring toward the end of the alley with a mixture of fear and apprehension.

They waited, hearts thumping against their ribs like they were trying to beat their way free. It was almost as if time had frozen and neither man seemed to be able to take his eyes away from the mouth of the alley where they were certain that the sound had come from it.

It was dark and they couldn't make out much, but they knew that there was someone there, waiting and watching. Armed and ready to kill both of them. It wasn't exactly a comforting thought and the waiting was what was killing Derek. He wanted to rush toward the bastard now and take him down armed or not, but until they spotted the gun and deduced his intent to kill there was nothing that could legally be done and so he watched and waited, wondering when something was going to happen.

It seemed to take a lifetime, standing there, staring. Watching.

But then suddenly… He spotted the slightest movement, almost a shadow within shadows and before he or Spencer reacted, the sound of gun shots blasted through the small alley.

* * *

><p><strong>EN: So… how about that. It wasn't a cliffhanger alright?**

**Ok fine it was. So shoot me. … Uh, not really… no need for weapons… I'm just gonna… um… go now…**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of the reviews guys! You rock!**

**I know I left you guys on a cliffhanger… sorry about that, I know it was sort of cruel, but that's the fun of it ;P**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p>Ch. 24<p>

It happened faster than Derek or Spencer could have anticipated. Derek saw something move, almost imperceptibly in the shadows and then a shot rang out loud in the alley, followed quickly by two more almost simultaneous shots. The flash of the gun going off sent Derek into action and he shoved Spencer down to the ground, their bodies crashing together in a heap.

"FUCK!" Derek couldn't stop the scream that erupted from his lips as fiery pain jolted his left arm. He grimaced and ground his teeth against the flares of pain and turned his face toward Spencer, his breathing a bit harsh after crashing into the hard concrete.

"Are you alright?"

Spencer blinked, dazed and pushed himself up, "Fine." He said, nodding and pressing a hand to his aching head. Somewhere during their collision, he must've hit his head on something because it was pounding angrily behind his temples.

"What about you – You're bleeding!" Spencer gasped and grabbed Derek's arm, his eyes fixed on the two inch gash spilling blood over his and Derek's clothing. "You were shot…"

"It's just a graze." Derek assured him, grunting and pulling them both up to their feet and grimacing again, pressing his hand to his arm.

It took them a moment to hear the groans and gasps coming from the other end of the narrow alley. Derek frowned and the two started to move toward the man, now lying on the ground, moaning in pain, clutching at his stomach where a bloody flower was blooming out on his shirt.

Footsteps pattered on the ground behind them and Wells and Prentiss came around the corner, rushing into the alley. "Are you alright?" Wells demanded. "He got a shot off before we got him."

"We're fine." Derek nodded, glancing toward his partner. "Just a graze."

Spencer wasn't paying attention to the cops behind him calling an ambulance and discussing what had happened and exactly how they were going to explain this to Cellucci. "I know him." He whispered.

Derek's brow furrowed and he whirled around. The man lying on the ground was letting out a thin, gasping string of curses. His eyes were clenched shut and he didn't seem to be aware of the people standing over his bleeding body.

"What?" Derek demanded, "How?"

"He was a John I serviced about a week ago," Spencer said, his throat feeling tight. "He… he said his name was Jason."

Derek's eyes narrowed in confusion and he turned to face Wells and Prentiss, who both looked just as confused as he did.

"But… that doesn't make sense," Prentiss frowned. "He's using prostitutes, but he's also killing them? Why?"

They could hear the wail of ambulance sirens growing close and Wells sighed, "We'll find out later. He needs a hospital if he's going to survive."

Spencer made a sound in the back of his throat, but didn't say anything else as the ambulance pulled into the road near the alley and the paramedics rushed out, speaking to Wells and Prentiss and working to stabilize Jason, lying on the ground muttering and groaning.

He still hadn't opened his eyes and he fought for a moment when the paramedics lifted him from the ground to get him onto a gurney, but they calmed him his and began working on him quickly.

"Your call said there was another injury?" one of the paramedics approached them again.

"It's just a graze," Derek said, motioning to the arm he was holding, blood oozing out between his fingers.

"Let me see," the woman shined a small flashlight onto Derek's arm to get a better look at the wound as he removed his hand. "Hmm, well it's a pretty deep gash, definitely going to need stitches. Let's get it bandaged up and we'll take care of it when we get to the hospital."

"Can't you just do it here?"

"Detective," the woman gestured toward the ambulance. "We've got to get this man to the ER immediately. Please…"

He sighed, "Fine. You guys meet us at the hospital, alright?"

Wells and Prentiss nodded, and motioned for Spencer to follow them as they headed toward their cars. "Don't worry," Prentiss assured Spencer when he glanced back at the exiting ambulance. "We'll see him in fifteen minutes. Twenty tops."

Spencer smiled slightly and nodded, climbing into the back of the car where they had left it a block over. He watched traffic and sat quietly, fist tight and eyes worried. Derek was fine, at least, but he felt guilty that he'd gotten shot at all, even if it was just a graze.

He tuned out Prentiss and Wells calling Cellucci and CSI units, arguing and trying to explain the situation without losing their jobs… or their lives. Instead, he simply focused on his confusion. Jason had acted… strange when they had been together, but he never would have thought he was capable of murder. At least, not serial murder. Why would he have sex with a prostitute when he was also killing them and the people who used their, uh, services? Where was the logic in that?

**~/.\~**

"So what you three are telling me is that without my knowledge or permission, you endangered your own lives and the life of a civilian in order to lure out a killer?" Cellucci's voice was deathly calm, which was even worse than when he was yelling. His face was tight, his eyes dark as he pinned the detectives across from him down with his angry stare.

The officers looked down and nodded, all mumbling "Yes" and hoping that Cellucci didn't shoot them for doing what they had done, especially without telling him.

"Are you insane!" Cellucci snapped, "You could've gotten that kid killed all because you wanted to use him as bait for your killer? You're cops; you solve murders the right way, not –"

Derek cleared his throat, "Um… sir," he said. Cellucci stopped mid-sentence and glared at him, but didn't say anything else so Derek continued. "Spencer wanted to do this. It was his idea and no one really got hurt except –"

"Except you and the killer."

"He'll survive though," Prentiss pointed out. "The doctors said that he took a shot to the gut and a shot to the thigh." She explained. "They got the bullets out without too much blood loss and he'll be up for an interview in a few days. Able to leave in less than a month."

Cellucci scowled, "This isn't how we close cases."

"We know, boss." Wells said, grimacing. "But Spencer would have tried something with or without our help; we figured we could at least be there and make sure that things went a bit more smoothly."

Cellucci pressed his lips together angrily, "And you just decided not to mention your little plan of action to me because…?"

"We… We figured that you wouldn't be happy about it, boss…" Wells winced as he said and Cellucci's face turned that frightening shade of purple-red.

"Well how do you think I feel about it now?" he demanded. "Hearing about it after the fact that one of my guys get himself shot endangering a civilian to catch a killer."

"Uh…" Prentiss looked at him awkwardly, "It worked, didn't it?"

Cellucci gripped the edge of his desk, fire still billowing in his eyes as he glared at the detectives. "Yes, it worked. And put him in the hospital, congratulations. I now have to sort this mess out with the media; I hope you're all happy with yourselves."

"Sorry, sir." The three cops muttered at the same time. They had known going into this risky plan of theirs that there would be consequences so they decided arguing their point too much wasn't in their best interest.

Cellucci scowled, "I really hate to do this, you're all fine officers, but I can't let you slide from this one."

"We understand." They said, again in unison.

Cellucci sighed and glanced down at the papers he had sitting in front of him on his desk. "One week of suspension." He said. "I already started filling out the paperwork."

Derek winced at the words that he hated to hear. He knew it was pretty much a given, and at least he still had his job, but suspension wasn't something to treat lightly. He slid his gun from its holster along with Prentiss and Wells and sat it down before him on the desk.

"I'll see you all next week." Cellucci dismissed them. "And I expect better behavior when you interview this Jason character."

"Yes, sir." The mumbled, exiting the office and grabbing whatever they needed from their desks before leaving the station.

"It could've been worse," Wells pointed out. "He could've fired us."

"True," Prentiss sighed. "But what am I supposed to do with a week off of work."

"Have fun?" Wells suggested. "We don't have to worry about cases or work until next week. Think of it as a vacation."

She snorted, "A forced, unpaid vacation." She said.

Wells chuckled, "Yeah, true. What about you, Morgan?" he called to his partner, who was walking a couple steps ahead of them toward the waiting SUV. "What are you gonna do?"

"Look for hospitals," Derek called over his shoulder without looking back as he slid into the car. The two remaining cops frowned and glanced at each other in confusion before going their separate ways and driving out of the parking lot.

**~/.\~**

Spencer glanced at the bandage that was covering the stitches on Derek's arm and fidgeted. "Are you sure you're ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Spencer." He assured the younger man. "It's just a graze; the doctor stitched me right up and gave me a few pain killers just in case. We caught the killer and no one died. It's fine."

"But it got you suspended,"

"Because we didn't talk to Cellucci first," Derek nodded, "Sure. And if we had, he would've said no and then we wouldn't have caught this Jason guy. It worked out fine, Spencer."

The young man sighed, "I suppose."

"I know." Derek assured him, glancing at him. He was sitting with his legs pulled up in the passenger seat of the SUV, his arms wrapped around his knees protectively, his chin resting on his knees.

"Besides, this gives me more time to help you look into hospitals for your mom."

"You're really still going to help me?" Spencer lifted his head and looked over at Derek again, surprised.

"Absolutely." Derek nodded. "Nothing is going to make me change my mind, alright?"

Spencer smiled, "Alright."

"I found a couple of places that seem promising," Derek added, "I'll let you take a look and see what you think; you know more about this stuff than I do."

Spencer smiled slightly and shifted, letting his legs uncurl and stretch out fully before reaching over and lightly gripping Derek's hand. "Thank you, Derek." He whispered.

Derek smiled at him, "Not a problem, Spencer." He assured him. "I told you, I want to help. And this is the only way I can really think to do that."

* * *

><p><strong>EN: HA! Not a cliffhanger and no one was mortally wounded. You guys can't get mad at me now. Right?**

**I think things are about to start winding down. *pouts* I'm sort of torn about that… But ah well. And I still have a lot to cover anyway, before it's over so a few more chapters at least.**

**So, Derek's been looking into hospitals for Diana, they need to talk to Jason, then Spencer needs to get back to school and then there's the most important thing that hasn't happened yet: The "I love you"!**

**All they've said is that they care about each other, and then they had sex… but there was no "I love you" exchanged… big moment people, it must happen… eventually ;)**

**Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Well, that chapter was certainly… interesting to write. I'm glad you guys enjoyed it! Thanks so much for all of your great reviews! ;)**

**So, they need to question Jason, obviously. His side of this sorted story needs to be told. And of course, Derek and Spencer need to talk more about Diana and their future and the "L" word needs to be said. Because I said so ;P**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; language; prostitution…**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**~~/~~**

Ch. 25

Spencer looked at the hospital with scrutinizing eyes as he and Derek pulled into the parking lot. They had spent that past three days looking into psychiatric hospitals in the area, speaking to doctors and talking to Diana about what she thought. She was keenly judgmental about all of the places they had looked into so far, not liking the small number of doctors here, the large number of patients there. The rooms were too small, the food wasn't right. Spencer knew it was because she wasn't looking forward to going to stay in a hospital, though she assured him that she would go. She knew that it was best for her and for Spencer, she simply wasn't thrilled with the idea of being in a hospital.

"This looks nice," Derek commented. "Not too big, not too small. Your mom should like it."

Spencer smiled slightly, "Should being the operative word." He said dryly. "Let's just get this over with. Talking with all these doctors is making me uncomfortable."

Derek smiled and shook his head at the younger man and half-jogging to catch up to him as he took long strides to get to the large double doors that led into the space.

It was a nice, cozy sort of reception area with a large oak desk and a young woman sitting there, busily talking on the phone and taking notes. It reminded Spencer a bit of the reception area where William had worked, but he refused to dwell on that. He had far more important things to worry about. "Can I help you gentlemen?" the woman asked as she sat the phone back into its cradle and looked expectantly up at them.

"Um, yeah." Spencer nodded. "I'm looking for a place for my mother. She's a paranoid schizophrenic." He explained. "We're just trying to find the right place."

"Well, Bennington's is a fantastic place," the woman assured them. "We have a large range of doctors specializing in DID, Schizophrenia, acute psychosis and a lot of other mental illnesses. Do you want to talk to one of our doctors? Walk around and get a look at our living quarters?"

"That would be great, thank you." Derek nodded.

She smiled at them and picked up her phone again, dialing a quick number and speaking to a doctor on the other end.

"Dr. Greenfield will be out in a minute to talk to you and show you around." The receptionist told them as she again hung the phone up. "You can have a seat over there while you're waiting."

They thanked the woman again and took the seats, glancing out the window behind them into the bright, sunny parking lot outside. "So far so good." Derek nudged the younger man's arm gently and Spencer turned back to look at him.

"We haven't even talked to the doctor yet, Derek."

"Yeah, but it's a nice place. It's in a decent area of the city, the receptionist was nice enough. It's clean. I've got a good feeling about this one."

Spencer smiled at him, "Well, I don't want to make a decision about who's going to be taking care of my mother's mental health based on a 'feeling', Derek."

Derek chuckled, "I never said you shouldn't find out more about this hospital, I just said I had a good feeling."

Spencer looked thoughtfully around the reception area again, nodding to himself. "I do too." He agreed. "Maybe we actually found the place this time. But I'm not making any decisions until we talk to the doctors, look around and then talk to my mom."

Derek nodded, "Of course." He agreed, glancing around behind the reception area. He could spot the occasional doctor or orderly walking past, a couple of times he thought he saw a patient and he mused at how incredibly normal they seemed. Even after noticing the small differences in Diana, he found it difficult to fully grasp that she had a mental illness at all. Of course, he'd yet to see her in the throes of a bad episode. And he certainly never wanted to.

"Can I help you?" a tall man with glasses approached them with a curious, friendly sort of smile. He had thinning, brown hair that was sprinkled with grey and crinkles around his eyes from years of smiling. His skin was a bit weathered from the Vegas sun and he had a thin tan line around his left ring finger where a ring had once sat. "I'm Dr. Greenfield." He introduced himself.

Spencer was quick to stand on his feet and take the hand that the man offered. "I'm Spencer Reid," he said. Motioning to Derek he added, "And this is Derek Morgan. We're trying to find a hospital for my mother, Diana. She's a paranoid schizophrenic."

Dr. Greenfield nodded, "Well, I can assure you that Bennington's has every resource available to take care of you mother. Every member of our staff has extensive experience dealing with patients who are mentally ill. Your mother takes medication, yes?"

"Of course." Spencer nodded. "She was diagnosed when she was twenty-three and she's been taking the medication since then. Usually, she's fine, but there's no way that I can leave her alone. She has violent episodes and delusions. Sometimes it can take days to bring her out of them."

The doctor nodded, "Does she take her medication regularly?"

Spencer hesitated. "I try to make her," he said. "Most of the time, she does. But sometimes she can be very difficult about it and I can't make her."

"I see," Dr. Greenfield nodded. "The medication keeps the worst of her delusions away though?"

"For the most part?"

"Has she ever become violent?" he asked. When Spencer again looked hesitant to answer, he continued: "We need to have a little background on her, for our treatment purposes, sir. We have staff who are familiar working with patients who have tendencies to become violent."

Spencer sighed, "Sometimes," he admitted. "She, well, she's not always violent, but when she's in one of her more difficult episodes, she believes she under attack and fights anyone that comes near her. She's take knives from the kitchen to try and defend herself."

The doctor nodded again, "Well, that can be fairly common in Paranoid Schizophrenic cases," he told them. "Would you like to take a look at our living quarters and recreational spaces?" he asked.

"Of course," Derek nodded. "Lead the way."

Dr. Greenfield smiled at them and waved them after him as he headed around the reception desk and into a large, open visiting room. There were a few patients milling around, speaking with family members and friends, exchanging hellos and goodbyes, accepting gifts and chattering quietly. Spencer looked around the space, feeling a warmth that seemed to exude from the very core of the room. A couple of doctors stood, occasionally speaking to patients or family members quietly, but mostly observing and making sure that everything was alright.

They were led down a hall, "These are our patients' rooms," he explained. "Each patient gets their own space, a nice bed, a desk. We have phones in our Day Room, where the patients have access to computers and television as well. They're allowed to keep books and personal things in their rooms and we encourage them to keep journals or diaries."

Spencer glanced inside the open door of one of the rooms, spotting a young woman lying on her stomach with her legs crossed in the air, her nose buried in a thick book. They were neat, clean looking rooms. Not large, but not too small either. The beds looked decent and comfortable enough.

"Spencer? You coming?" Derek called from the end of the hall. The young man blinked and hurried to catch up as they entered an empty cafeteria set up with tables and chairs, a long clean service line. There were men and women bustling around busily behind the counter wearing hair nets and scrubs as they cooked.

"This is our dining area. We serve breakfast at 9:30, lunch at 12:30 and dinner at 5:00. And it stays open for two hours after lunch and two after dinner if anyone wants to come back and find something snack on."

The smells of lunch being made Spencer's stomach rumbled, so he hoped that was a good sign that his mother wouldn't complain about the food that they served there. "And this way is our Day Room," Dr. Greenfield continued, walking through a set of door near the entrance and down another short hall an open, bright area where more patients and doctors were sitting and walking around.

The light murmur of conversation, coupled with the low hum from the TV set where a few patients were gather, intently watching some early afternoon soap opera, greeted them as they entered. "This is our Day Room," the doctor said, motioning an arm around the space.

Spencer stared around the space, taking in every detail. He spotted large, glistening windows that were letting in a lot of the bright daylight from outside and smiled. "My mom loves windows," he commented, looking around. "She used to tell me they were like magic portals into another world…" he smiled nostalgically as he looked around and Derek squeezed his hand gently.

"It's nice, huh?" he said quietly.

Spencer nodded, "Very nice. I think my mom will like it here."

Dr. Greenfield smiled. "Well just come into my office and we can fill out that paperwork and everything that needs to be done."

"Um," Spencer frowned, "Can we make an appointment for another time. I need to talk to her first and make sure this is going to be a place she'll like."

"Of course. Just speak with Sandra on your way out, she can tell you when I'm free to make an appointment." A slight beeping noise caught the man's attention and he glanced down at a cell phone he worse around his hip, clipped to his belt. "I have to take this." He apologized. "Can you find your own way back out? If you have any more questions, you can talk to Sandra, I'm sure she can help."

"Thank you," Spencer and Derek nodded and made their way back out to the reception area. They talked with the woman – Sandra – for a few more minutes, making an appointment to speak with Dr. Greenfield again in a few days and finding out what information they would need to fill out in the paperwork and how payments would be made before leaving.

"So, like I said, a nice place." Derek said, smiling as he slid behind the wheel of the car.

Spencer smiled back at him, "And you were right." He admitted, almost a little grudgingly. "I'm sure Mom will like it."

"See there." Derek nodded. "We're making progress already. At this rate, by the end of the month your mother will be in a hospital being taken care of and you will be back in school where you want to be."

Spencer glanced out the window, that hope he felt swelling in his chest as he threw another surreptitious look toward the man driving. "Thanks, Derek." He said quietly. "You don't know how much this means to me."

Derek smiled back at him, shrugging it off. "Don't worry about it, Spencer. I enjoy helping you."

**~~/~~**

**E/N: So, it looks like they're finally getting somewhere with Diana's hospital… Next will be the interrogation w/Jason and maybe talking to Dr. Greenfield again. And there are a few other things to cover as well. So, I'm better there will be at least 4 or 5 more chapters. Probably more if dear Lola decides to continue dragging this out just a bit LOL ;)**

**Hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Thanks so much to those of you who reviewed, I know that last chapter wasn't the exciting interview you were looking for, but it had to happen anyway.**

**So, now we can get to Jason's interrogation and figure out what sort of jilted logic he was using to justify his murders…**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; language; prostitution**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**~~/~~**

Ch. 26

The next few days passed by quickly for Spencer and Derek. Spencer explained to Diana everything that they'd learned on their trip to Bennington's and told her about the doctor they'd met and the rooms and she seemed to like the idea of the place, though she still wasn't thrilled about leaving the place she'd called home for more than twenty years. It was a terrifying thought to consider leaving the one place she'd felt truly secure in for such a long time. But she knew that it had to happen, and she brushed Spencer's guilt aside every time he began to summon it. She would do what she knew had to be done, because there was simply no way around it. Spencer could not take care of her forever.

Derek was getting restless. He'd started to look into other things for Spencer, financial aid, colleges and degree programs. Anything to keep his mind busy. He hated not working, he hated knowing that the man who'd shot him, who was the reason for the aching, tugging burn that ran up and down his arm with nearly every move he made despite the painkillers, was just sitting in some hospital bed instead of truly suffering for the lives he'd snuffed out. And so he kept busy, impatiently waiting for the day when he could get back to work.

The day before his suspension was over, he went along with Spencer and Diana to talk again to Dr. Greenfield, who helped them fill out the paperwork needed and document everything before having a brief conversation with Diana about her past history and showing her around the hospital as well. She seemed moderately impressed with the space and even went far enough to talk to a few of the patients in the Day Room, but shook her head at immediately entering the hospital, insisting that she needed a night to say good bye.

Derek had opted to stay at Spencer's house that night, though he never really did get any sleep. Diana insisted of going through every room of the house and saying good bye. Spencer seemed relieved that she was lucid during this transition time, because he couldn't even imagine how hard it would be if one of her delusions decided to take over. When they finally got her to go to sleep, Derek and Spencer ended up staying on the couch downstairs, talking about the future. Their future.

Spencer was curled up on the couch, his long legs folded underneath him as he rested his head on Derek's strong shoulder and stared off into space. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?" he asked, sounding insecure once again. "Putting her in a hospital, I mean."

Derek smiled and gently ran his fingers through the young man's hair, "Spencer, it's what's best for your mother. You know it and she knows it. It doesn't mean you love her any less, in fact… I think it shows just how much you love her. You're making sure that she gets the help that she needs and deserves."

The young man sighed, nodding. "I guess…"

"Well, if you have to guess you aren't as smart as you seem, are you?"

Spencer frowned, "Derek, she's my mother. She's taken care of me… well, tried to take care of me, for my entire life. It's not like I want to lock her away in some asylum for the rest of her life."

"You aren't. She's going to be in a decent, very capable hospital where her needs will be well taken care of and you are going to go back to school and get that education you always wanted and join the FBI."

Hearing him say it like that made it almost tangible for the young man and he smiled slightly, shifting closer to him. He'd never really been held like this before, no pressure, no expectation, just a gentle, loving embrace that reminded him that there were good people, decent people, still living in the world.

They talked for a few hours longer before they fell asleep like that, curled together on the couch, arms wrapped around each other. Derek couldn't even find it in himself to hate the ache in his back when he woke the next morning from sleeping in the awkward position because it had been a comforting, peaceful sleep and that peace still remained on the slack, beautiful face of the man curled up next to him.

**~/.\~**

Wells greeted Derek as he walked through the doors of the hospital where Jason was currently residing while recovering from surgery.

"Feels good to be back, doesn't it?"

Derek nodded, "It sure does." He agreed. "Anything from this Jason character yet?"

"We've got his full name. Jason Thompson. He lives alone in an apartment just off the strip."

"Has he been interrogated yet?"

Wells shook his head, " I thought you'd want to us to wait for you."

"Damn right I did," Derek nodded, allowing Wells to lead the way to the hospital room where two uniformed police men stood guarding it should he try and escape. They flashed their badges and walked inside, ducking their heads slightly and taking in the sight of the blond man sitting partially propped up on the hospital bed.

He eyed them with a look that was curiosity mixed with anger. It was a strange combination to say the least.

"You the cops that arrested me?" he asked, raising a brow at them.

They nodded and took the seats next to the bed. "Jason Thompson, correct?" Wells asked.

Jason just nodded, his jaw tight as he stared not at them, but straight ahead at the wall.

"You're aware of your rights?"

"Yeah, you're woman friend already told me."

"So you understand that at any time you can ask for a lawyer, correct?"

Jason grunted and Derek sighed, leaning forward. He noticed that every couple of seconds, the man's blue eyes would flit to the recording device, perched on the bedside table, that was taking in every word that was spoken.

"Mr. Thompson," Derek said, working to keep his voice cool and in-control as he spoke. "We need you to answer the questions verbally,"

Jason turned to look at him and his eyes slid down the stitches on his arm from the bullet wound, a small smirk lighting his features. "Fine. Yes, I know I can have a lawyer, no thanks."

Derek frowned, "Alright, fine. Let's get right to the point then, Mr. Thompson. During the past couple of months have you been shooting and killing prostitutes and their Johns in alleys?"

Jason looked thoughtful for a moment, before locking eyes with the detective and nodded. "I have."

"Last night, did you follow myself and Spencer Reid into an alley and shoot at us before Detectives Prentiss and Wells took you down?"

"If by 'took me down' you mean shot me, then yes I did."

"Spencer tells us that a little less than a week ago you paid him to have sex with you, is that right?"

Jason's smile widened and he nodded. "Yes. One of the best fucks I've ever had."

Derek's gut tightened and his eyes got dark. He had to clamp his jaw shut tight not to say something that could result in serious damage to his job and career.

Wells watched his partner and leaned forward, taking over the questioning for a moment. "Then why would you try to kill him? Why kill any of them?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Enlighten us." Wells pushed, his keen eyes never moving from Jason's face.

The man sighed, "Alright, alright. It's simple. They're scum. Filthy, disgusting scum and they deserved to die."

"You paid that so-called 'scum' to have sex with you!" Derek snapped, glaring at the man.

Jason sighed, shaking his head. "Not the hookers." He said, as if that should have somehow been obvious. "The Johns who pay them."

"But… you're one of those Johns."

Jason shrugged, "Not for pleasure. At least, not entirely. I only have sex with them so that I can get to know them. And when I find one who obviously doesn't enjoy what they're doing, who desperately wants a way out, I give it to them."

"By shooting them?" Derek demanded.

Jason nodded. "Of course. I put them out of their misery."

"You're saying these are mercy killings?" Wells raised a brow. "And yet you engaged in sexual activities with one –"

"Not one." Jason shook his head. "Didn't you hear me. I had sex with all of them. How else would I get to know them?"

Derek was having a difficult time wrapping his mind around what this man was saying. "You're telling us that you killed the Johns because they deserved to die and the prostitutes because you wanted to end their suffering?"

"Exactly!" Jason nodded. Derek blinked, throwing a glance to Wells. This guy was completely insane.

"Do you even realize how stupid that sounds?"

Jason scowled, "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"You were paying them to have sex with you just like the Johns you murdered!" Derek said, exasperated. How could he not understand how insane that was?

Jason looked down at his hands, "I know." He finally admitted. "And it makes me just as guilty as the rest of them, but I had to do it. I had to know if they were ready to leave the life they were in or not and that was the only way I could. I was simply blending in to their world."

"You killed innocent people. They didn't want to die, Jason –"

"You don't know that." Jason snapped. "I looked into their eyes, I saw their pain. I know that they didn't want the life they had and I did what I could to help them!"

Derek didn't know what to say anymore. There was no real logic to Jason's answers. Nothing that made any sense whatsoever to him.

"I think this interview is over." Derek said, standing to his feet, Wells following him quickly.

"Wait, Detective!" Jason called out, reaching his hand toward them as they neared the door.

They two officers turned around to face the man.

"Spencer… tell him I said that I was sorry."

Derek blinked, "What?"

"Amber," Jason explained. "She was standing with him the night that I picked him and she with him when I picked her up. It must have hurt to hear about her death."

Derek shook his head, "You are one twisted piece of work, you know that?"

"I'm not twisted." Jason frowned, "I'm just doing what I know is right."

Derek and Wells exchanged glances again. "Well then, Mr. Thompson, your definition of 'right' is incredibly wrong."

**~~/~~**

**E/N: Anyone else surprised by Jason's apparent motive? Hmm… very messed up that one. I rather enjoyed writing that interview.**

**And I think I may have lied last chapter. There will probably be 2 or 3 more chapters, and an epilogue for sure. I can't believe it's really so close to being over… I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of your reviews guys! I'm glad you enjoyed the interview; it was certainly fun to write. Things are definitely winding down now; this story was far, far longer than I ever expected it to be, but slowly everything is resolved, yes?**

**LOL, anyway, back to the story:**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash; sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**~~/~~**

Ch. 27

Spencer got back that afternoon after helping his mother get settled at Bennington's and found Derek already waiting for him in the living room. "I thought you had to work?" he questioned, a frown on his face as he took a seat next to the older man. Derek scooted closer to him and nodded.

"I do. But it's my lunch break right now; I've got to be back at the station in half an hour, but I wanted to come by and see you first. We just finished interviewing Jason."

Spencer stiffened slightly and looked up into Derek's eyes, "And?"

"And he claims that he was trying to put them out of their misery."

"What?" Spencer frowned, "That's it? That doesn't make any sense; I thought for sure that he was trying to clean up the streets."

"Well, he was in a way." Derek said. "He said the Johns were disgusting pigs and deserved to die."

Spencer quirked a brow at that, looking confused and unsure.

Derek cleared his throat after a moment and gently took Spencer's hand in his, wrapping his fingers around the smooth skin. "He also wanted me to tell you that he was sorry about Amber."

Spencer's hand tensed in his and Derek caught a spark of tears in his eyes as he stared down at the ground. "He's _sorry_?" he asked, venom coating his voice in a way that Derek hadn't heard in quite a while. "He killed her and that's all he has to say? That he's sorry?"

Derek sighed, squeezing his hands. "He's not right in the head, Spencer. I can tell you that much. It doesn't matter what he says, it won't change anything. He confessed and he's going to prison. He'll be lucky if he doesn't get the Death Penalty."

Spencer sighed, frowning off into space, thinking about Amber and how young she was, how wrong it was that she had died at such a tender age because one messed up man decided that she needed to be 'put out of her misery'.

Derek pressed his lips together for a moment, looking unsure of how to say whatever else he had to say. "There's something else." He said slowly.

Spencer looked up at him, hearing a slightly strained tone to the man's words. "What?" he asked curiously.

"Your father…" he spoke carefully, watching Spencer's eyes widen fractionally and then narrow at the mention of William Reid. "His funeral is tomorrow, I heard about it at the station today."

Spencer blinked, looking shocked for a moment. "His… funeral?" he asked.

Derek nodded, "Some people at the firm he worked for are taking care of the service and everything. I'm not sure if you want to go or not, but –"

"Go to his funeral?" Spencer asked, his voice cracked just a little and Derek could almost swear he saw a flash of tears in his eyes. "Why would I do that? He never went to anything for me. Not awards ceremonies or spelling bees or even my kindergarten 'graduation'; he ran away when I was ten. It's not like he really cared about me."

Derek sighed and pulled Spencer closer to him, wrapping an arm around his thin shoulders. "I know he wasn't ever a dad to you, Spencer. But he _was _your father. And you've spent so long holding in all of that anger and pain… maybe if you tried talking to him –"

"He's dead, Derek." Spencer said, that crack in his voice growing just a little, causing his words to quaver just a tiny bit. "I can't talk to him."

"Sure you can." Derek told him. "My dad's dead and I talk to him all the time. The dead are really good listeners."

Spencer scrutinized the other man's face, "Even if I believed that, and I'm not saying I do, why would I want to say anything to him?"

"Because he's your father and he hurt you." Derek said point blank. "He was supposed to be there for you and he wasn't and you've wanted to tell him how badly that hurt for years and now he's gone and it's the only way that you'll be able to get all of that hurt off your chest."

Spencer shook his head, "I don't have anything to say to him, Derek, even if he was still alive."

Derek sighed, "Alright, alright. But think about it, Spencer." He said. "It might do you some good."

**~/.\~**

Spencer was silent that night, sitting at the table in the kitchen, staring off into space, clearly thinking. Derek had offered to cook dinner for the two of them that night and was currently standing over the stove watching the pasta noodles slowly beginning to bubble and boil.

"Are you alright, Spencer?" Derek asked, glancing back at the younger man over his shoulder.

"Huh? Oh, uh, I'm fine." He answered absently. "I'm just… thinking."

"You looked at the colleges that I showed you?"

Spencer nodded, "Yeah." He motioned to the papers that he'd been reading over on the table. "I would really love to go to Georgetown, but I don't expect you to pay –"

"Spencer, I gave you colleges based on what I can afford." Derek said. "And you're forgetting that there are scholarships out there for people going back to school. How old are you anyway?"

Spencer frowned, chewing his lip anxiously for a moment. "I'll be twenty in October." He said.

Derek blinked, but nodded slowly. He was a little older than he'd thought then. It was better than him being younger. "So there are definitely scholarships out there for you. It won't take anything to pay for it. And I'm sure you'll get in, as smart as you are."

Spencer smiled faintly, shrugging. "Maybe…"

Derek sighed, "Come on, Spencer, talk to me. What's bothering you?"

"Nothing," Spencer insisted, turning his attention back to the papers he had sitting in front of him. Derek noticed that his eyes weren't moving down the pages, he was simply staring blankly at them, lost in his thoughts.

He turned his attention back to the pasta on the stove and they sat in silence for nearly twenty minutes before the food was ready and Derek fixed them both a plate, placing Spencer's in front of him with a soft clink as it hit the table.

"Food's ready," he said when the young man didn't look up.

He blinked and lifted his eyes to see the plate in front of him. "Oh, sorry." He pushed the papers away from him and pulled the plate forward. "It smells delicious."

Derek sat his fork down and frowned at him. "Talk to me, Spencer. Please. Something's bothering you."

Spencer looked uncertain for a moment and sighed. "It's just… I've been thinking about what you said earlier… about needing to talk to my father…"

"And?" Derek quirked a brow hopefully.

"And, you're right. There are a lot of things I never got to say to him. I never got to tell him how much it hurt, how much I wanted him to love me." Spencer's voice grew quiet and he looked down.

"So?"

Spencer sighed, "So maybe you have a point." He conceded. "But how am I supposed to talk to my dead father? I couldn't even talk to him when he was alive!"

Derek smiled softly and reached across the table, wrapping his fingers around Spencer's long, slightly shaking ones. "It might surprise you, but talking to dead people is easier than talking to people who are alive. All you have to do is think about them, take a deep breath and let it all out. You don't have to worry about their reactions or whether or not they agree with what you say, you just say it."

Spencer frowned thoughtfully. "So, I would be essentially talking to air then?"

Derek sighed, "If you insist on thinking that, yes. You'd be talking to air, but it would be just as effective as actually standing face to face with your father and letting him know how you feel. Better, even, because you can let everything out without worrying about his reactions."

Spencer nodded. "I suppose that makes sense."

"So…?"

He sighed, "So, I guess I'll go to the funeral. I… I owe myself that much, I guess."

Derek smiled, "You certainly do."

"Will you go with me?" Spencer suddenly asked, his wide eyes locking onto Derek's pleadingly. "Please?"

"Of course." Derek nodded. "I wouldn't miss it. Now eat, Pretty Boy. I'm gonna put some meat on your bones if it's the last thing I do."

Spencer blushed and looked down, his hair falling into his face. "Pretty Boy?" he asked, raising a brow.

Derek smiled, "What? It's true. You are definitely a very pretty boy…"

**~~/~~**

**E/N: Aw! Derek called Spencer "Pretty Boy"! I had to do, it was begging to be done! ;)**

**So, they're going to William's funeral… should be interesting… Coming up: the "I love you"! *squee* So excited to write that!**

**Hope you guys enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of your awesome reviews guys! I apologize for the delay; it was entirely **_**not**_** my fault. My mother has decided that FanFiction is the devil and believes I may be 'addicted' to it… because we all know that, clearly, I am on a downward spiral right to Hell. Of course, considering that was true BEFORE FanFiction, I don't really see what her reasoning is, but ah well…**

**Now, onto Chapter 28, which is the last chapter. And then an epilogue and it's all over *sobs* I am truly going to miss this story oh so much. I really enjoyed writing it…**

**WARNING: Morgan/Reid slash, sexual situations; non-consensual sexual acts; prostitution; language**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**~~/~~**

Ch. 28

Spencer glanced up at the sky as they made their way to the cemetery, Derek walking beside him, squeezing his hand gently every now and then to comfort him. The sky above them was grey and overcast, thick black clouds hanging low in the sky, heavy with rain. A perfect day for a funeral, Spencer thought bitterly.

He'd taken a seat in the very back during the services, shifting a bit uncomfortably in his seat through the eulogy, listening to his father's co-workers talk about what a great man William Reid had been, how he had been generous and kind to everyone who knew him. How he had always done everything in his power to help someone in need if he could.

Spencer found himself wondering if he were at the wrong funeral. He wanted to have gotten a chance to know _that _William Reid, the one who was apparently a humanitarian and loved people and children and was joking and laughing and throwing parties for friends, paying for their food or occasionally babysitting their children for them because they needed 'alone time' with their spouse. TheWilliam Reid who had raised him had been none of those things.

He wondered if the co-workers talking at the funeral had known William all those years ago, if any of the people present remembered that the man had a wife and son that he hadn't mentioned in years because he'd walked out on them like the coward he was. He even wondered if any of them might have recognized him, but he doubted that. When he was younger, he had always been told how much he looked like his father, but that had changed over the last decade, that was for sure.

They were both tall, thin men, but that was where most of the resemblance stopped. Spencer's shoulders were narrower; he was thin in a way that was almost unhealthy while William was more decently muscled. Spencer was even a bit taller than his father, if he remembered his height correctly from watching him talk to his receptionist. William's hair was darker, short and straight, though just starting to grey a bit around the edges; Spencer's hair was curly, longer and a couple of shades lighter than William's had been. The only thing of his father's that Spencer had were his eyes.

Hazel eyes that were wide and revealingly open of all emotions, a tinge of green on occasion appearing to light in the telling recesses. Sometimes Spencer could look in a mirror and swear his eye color changed right in front of him, first a hazel-brown, then brown with a green-ish tint and then just plain brown and the faint traces of the colors would shift ever so slightly in the changing light. William's eyes were exactly the same, open eyes, revealing every emotion that was bubbling inside of him. A bit of a conundrum color-wise, but wide and open all the same.

In Spencer's eyes he could see the self-loathing and the shame, but William's eyes were angry, a little bitter and judgmental. It made Spencer angry to think that his father didn't feel any shame or guilt for what he had done. He'd walked out on his family and continued living his life as if nothing had changed, he went to work every day, chatted with his friends and co-workers and smiled and laughed and never once looked back. It was enough to make the young man's blood boil.

They had finally finished lowering William's casket into the grave when the rain started pouring down and people immediately snapped out their umbrellas and began shivering as they finished the rest of the service quickly and people rushed to get out of the dreary, rainy cemetery as quickly as possible.

"Spencer? You wanna leave?"

Spencer's throat felt tight as he turned to glance at Derek, still standing beside him, holding his hand in a gentle, comforting grip.

He turned back to look at the lonely looking grave and it seemed to strike him for the first time that his father was dead. Really dead. And there was no way that he would ever get the chance to know the person that his co-workers had talked about, never get to see the smile that had apparently been a common occurrence. Never get to prove to the sorry bastard that he didn't need him. Never get to finally get all of his anger and hurt and tentative, stupid, shattered hope out of his system.

He shook his head, "No, I – I wanna stay a minute." Spencer said finally, glancing back at Derek with those revealing eyes. Derek smiled gently and nodded, letting go of the young man's hand as he made his way to the grave site, ignoring the rain that was drenching his thin frame.

Derek watched silently from a distance, almost willing to bet he saw those thin shoulder shaking a few times from something other than the freezing rain as he fell down to his knees in the muddy earth and just seemed to stare ahead at the spot where his father's body now lay beneath the earth, six feet below his knees. The grave itself was unprotected from the torrents, but a few yards away the folding chairs and tent-covering where the guests had been sitting remained, being beaten and tossed this way and that by the rain and wind.

Spencer took a deep, shuddering breath and blinked back hot tears from his eyes as he stared at the ground. He wasn't sure what he was doing or why, but Derek's words from earlier rang in his mind, echoing. _The dead are good listeners._

He scoffed in spite of himself. How exactly could dead people be good listeners? Once you die, there's nothing else. You become food for maggots and worms, victims of rot, decay. The process of decomposition wasn't pleasant, even when the dead were embalmed, eventually nature would take her course. And that meant, very simply, that the dead couldn't hear a damn thing.

Still, Spencer knew there was nothing more therapeutic, more healthy than a good long rant. And that was exactly what he was supposed to be doing, right? He lifted his eyes slightly, watching the rain drops collide together in the air before they settled on the ground, forming mushy puddles of dirt and loose grass.

He took a deep breath, feeling incredibly silly and more than a little bit crazy as he began to speak.

"Dad? …" he cleared his throat hoarsely and tried again. "I… I have no idea why I'm doing this. I feel stupid, but… I never got the chance to talk to you." He swallowed convulsively and blinked again, telling himself that the rain was the problem and there was no way that he was really crying. Not over William Reid. Not a chance in Hell.

"Not even when you were around," he continued, his voice quavering slightly under the strain of trying to keep a sob or scream – he wasn't sure which – from rising out of his throat. "You were always working, you know. And I tried, I really tried to get your attention. I worked so hard to make you proud, but you never seemed to notice anything that I did. You were always yelling at Mom because she wasn't taking her medicine right. But it wasn't her fault, Dad. She was trying, she did the best she could. And she never ran away. But you… you did."

Now he couldn't deny the hot streaks dripping down his cheeks as tears, but he ignored them all the same.

"How could you do that to Mom? To me? I loved you, did you know that? Did you even care?" Spencer's quavering voice cracked and a small sob broke loose but he fought a second back down with Herculean effort. "You didn't say good bye, you just packed your stuff and walked out and left me all alone. Why did you do that? Did you even think of how I would feel? How I was supposed to make things work? You knew, damn it, you _knew _how Mom was about her medicine and you knew her hallucinations and episodes were getting worse and you still walked out and went on living your life like nothing had happened.

"Did you tell anyone what had happened? Did they even notice something was different? How could you explain that? To anyone?" Another crack in his voice and Spencer looked down, rain dripping down his wet hair as it fell limply into his face and he pushed it back with long, shaking fingers.

"Did you think about us? Worry? Even pick up the phone to call? Drive by sometime to check and make sure we were still alive? What the hell did you think we were supposed to do with you gone? Mom couldn't work forever the way she was and what was I supposed to do? I had to take care of her and the house and the bills and everything and I was just a kid, Dad. How could you force that kind of responsibility on me? It was your job, _your place _to take care of your family and you just walked away. Like a coward."

He swallowed convulsively, "I spent years wondering what I did or said wrong. What could I have screwed up so badly that you would just leave and never even look back? Was it too much for you? Was I too 'different', did Mom's episodes get too out of control? I never knew. And I spent years trying to figure it out. Trying to understand what would make you do what you did. I still don't know. I'd like to think there was a real reason and you didn't just run like a coward, but that seems like the only real option, doesn't it?

"Didn't you even once feel bad about it? Lose sleep over it? I did. I had nightmares and doubts and shame and fear and one shitty life all because you turned your back on me and Mom and didn't even have the guts to say why."

Spencer's fingers were shaking and his thin frame was shivering, his voice pitched oddly and cracking, tears mingling with the rain. He clasped his hands tightly in front of him, his knees digging deeper into the soft earth beneath him and he took a shuddering breath.

"I always thought I would get up the nerve to say this to your face one day. To ask you for a real reason, to demand that you make it right, but it's too late for that now, isn't it? You can't fix anything and I'm not sure that you would even if you could. You wouldn't want anyone to know what really happened to me and Mom after you decided to walk away, would you? No, that would be too embarrassing, right? Who wants to tell their co-workers that their son is fucking prostitute."

Spencer's voice was bitter, edged with a malice he hadn't even realized he help and he swallowed again, his throat tight.

"I really did love you, you know that? I blamed myself for you leaving. I know Mom felt like it was her fault, but it wasn't. You'd known about her schizophrenia before you two were married. It was me that changed everything. After I was born, when you realized I wasn't the son you'd always thought of, dreamed of… you hated it, didn't you? Having to cope with a mentally ill wife was bad enough, but then your son comes along and he's so far from normal it's scary. You talked to my teachers, I remember that. They said they thought I might have some mild Autism Spectrum Disorder, like Asperger's. And you didn't like that either, did you? Maybe that's why you left…"

Spencer's shaking voice suddenly found a bit of purchase and though his throat was still tight and tears still leaked down his cheeks, his voice grew a bit more confident and his words shook less as they left his mouth.

"I guess it doesn't matter either way, does it? Because you're dead now. I thought I'd feel some kind of closure but I just feel… empty. A little numb really. It's not so different than when you left, honestly. I feel like maybe I did something wrong that caused this to happen, even though I know I didn't. And I wonder what I could've done to prevent it, even though I already know the answer and it's absolutely nothing."

He pressed his lips together, frowning to himself. "But maybe that's the point anyway. You were never there for me, because you got scared. You ran. And I didn't. I had to stay and help Mom and make everything work…" he blinked, tears and rain drops sticking to his lashes as he slowly rose to his feet, wobbling a bit and steadying himself. "I had to stay strong because you refused to and you know what…"

A faint smile traced the young man's lips. "If you hadn't left I would never have realized how strong I really am." Spencer tilted his head, "I guess… thank you." He whispered the last two words and started to turn and leave, before pausing to look back at the muddy ground.

"I can't really say that I'll miss you any," he admitted slowly. "But I guess I can't really say I won't miss you either. It just won't hurt anymore to think about you."

And with that, Spencer Reid turned and didn't look back at the muddy site of his father's grave as he made his way to Derek Morgan and slipped his wet, muddy fingers into his with a faint, watery smile and teary eyes.

"You were right." He said quietly.

"Oh?"

Spencer's smile grew, "The dead are good listeners."

**~/.\~**

Spencer's lips were soft under his as Derek kissed the younger man. They were lying on the couch in the living room, papers and applications for colleges and scholarships scattered on the coffee table and floor. Derek was supporting himself with one arm while the other wrapped carefully around Spencer's thin waist. Their shirts were already gone, Spencer's belt undone and pants unbuttoned.

He moaned breathily into the kiss as their tongues tangled together and his brilliantly expressive eyes fluttered closed as Derek's strong arm wrapped tighter around him, his fingers pressing against the soft, smooth flesh.

As the kiss broke, Derek lifted his head and stared down at the young man beneath him, marveling in his beauty and his strength. He'd never met anyone quite like him before and found it hard to believe that in less than two months this young kid who worked the streets of Vegas had turned his entire world upside down before somehow seeming to right everything again and give him some strange form of meaning.

Spencer's eyes fluttered open again at a light tough on his cheek and he looked into chocolate colored eyes and smiled a faint smile, placing one of his own elegant hands over Derek's and breathing deeply, taking in the scent of rain and earth that still lingered on both of them, mingling with their own unique scents. "Derek?" he asked. He was being strangely quiet, still staring down at him with a curious expression on his face not unlike fear or uncertainty.

Derek's tongue darted out his mouth, wetting his lips nervously. "Spencer…" he breathed, taking a shaky breath and cocking his head to the side.

"Yes?" Spencer's breath caught in his throat as he studied the older man, unsure of what exactly was going on. Apprehensive and waiting.

"I… I…" Derek fumbled, eyes never wavering from Spencer's. He swallowed hard and took a leap he'd never taken before in his entire life. "I love you."

Spencer blinked and was silent for so long that Derek began to worry.

Should he have waited? Did Spencer not feel the same way? What if he had just ruined everything? It wasn't in his nature to worry about things like that, but Spencer Reid seemed to make him feel totally unbalanced and perfectly balanced all at the same time. It was as frustrating as it was intoxicating. Before his weary, anxious mind had a chance to continue on its self-destructive path, Spencer had yanked his face down to his again, crushing their lips together with a huger and passion that made the older man's head spin.

"I love you too…" Spencer breathed as they broke apart. "I love you so much, Derek…"

Derek smiled, not calling the younger man on the faint trace of tears in his eyes as long as he didn't call him on the tears he himself was harboring. He returned the passionate kiss with one of his own, an electrical charge sparking the air between their bodies as they intertwined together on the old worn out sofa, feeling more alive and hopeful than they had in their entire lives.

**~~/~~**

**E/N: Clichéd? A bit. Do I give a damn? Not at all.**

***Sighs* Only the epilogue left now. I will truly miss this story, though I think I enjoyed writing this last chapter more than any of the others… It's definitely longer.**

**Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	29. Epilogue

**A/N: Thanks so much to all of the amazing people who added this to favorites and alert! I heart you guys so much! You rock! Sadly, this is the very last installment in this story *sighs***

**But, I had tons of fun writing this, it was really supposed to be much shorter, just an experiment into the world of Prostitute!Reid, but it grew far out of my control… which I suppose is a good thing ;)**

**I really don't know why I'm bothering w/a warning anymore… So I think I'll be rebellious and say "The heck with it!" If you people made it through the entire story so far, you surely don't need a warning. Jeesh people…**

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**~~/~~**

Epilogue

_**SEVEN AND A HALF YEARS LATER**_

Spencer Reid fidgeted nervously with his tie, obsessively making sure that it was indeed as straight as it could be. He was standing outside of the FBI Headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. Derek had dropped him off nearly five minutes earlier, having had to hurry to his self-defense class in the Academy. He'd decided to enroll after Spencer's recent graduation and was currently training to become an FBI field agent in the Behavioral Analysis Unit while still working with the DC Homicide Department until then.

Swallowing, the young man took a deep breath and closed his eyes, counting backwards in his head from 100. He looked down at his shaking hands, his eyes catching sight of the golden band glittering on his left hand ring finger. Nothing was 'official' of course, but Derek had given him the ring a month ago on their anniversary and though he claimed to not need a piece of paper to validate their relationship, they had talked about a ceremony. Probably just a small ceremony, JJ and Emily had offered to fly up from Nevada to be there and that was really all Spencer needed.

Other agents were busily walking in and out of the building, chattering on cell phones and to themselves while he stood, nervous and uncertain, in the parking lot.

"Are you lost, Sweetie?" a kind female voice behind him jolted him out of his spinning thoughts and he turned around to see a plump, smiling blond woman wearing a bright pink denim coat and a vibrant dress with matching heels and a glasses as well.

Spencer swallowed convulsively, "I, uh… No." he said, stumbling over his words slightly. "I just…"

"First day?" The woman smiled at him in an understanding sort of way and he took an instant liking to her.

He nodded, his face tinged a faint shade of pink. "Y-Yeah." He admitted slowly, throwing his eyes toward the building.

"I'm Penelope," she said, holding out a hand with shimmering glitter nails. He took it slowly and returned her kind smile.

"Spencer…" he stammered back. "Uh, well… Dr. Sp-Spencer Reid. Uh, you can call me Spencer…" He winced and looked down but Penelope's smile just grew wider.

"Well, Sugar, you can call me Garcia. Everyone here does anyway. What Unit are you working for? I can show the way if you'd like…" she offered.

"Oh, I… The Behavioral Analysis Unit. Under, um, Agent Jason Gideon." He swallowed again and the woman beamed at him.

"Well, that's perfect!" she said. "I'm the TA for his team. C'mon, I'll take you to his office."

Spencer wanted to protest, but there wasn't a reason too. And Garcia seemed nice enough anyway, a little too colorful but definitely nice. He followed a few steps behind her, still feeling his nerves twisting in his stomach, along with the butterflies that made his insides swell. This was what he had dreamed of since he was a kid. This was what he had always wanted to do his entire life and he wasn't about to let nerves get in the way. He swallowed the anxious feeling and started walking faster, matching his pace to that of the technical analyst.

The bubbly woman chattered non-stop on their way to the BAU, in the elevators, down the hall, toward the bustling bullpen, past the break room. Spencer listened in honest curiosity and interest, finding the woman's voice somehow comforting.

They stopped at an office above the bullpen and she tapped on the door, "Agent Gideon?" she asked, tapping again when there was no answer. Then a faint, grumbled "Come in," was muttered and she pushed the door open.

Three men stood inside, one sitting down at a desk, glasses perched on his nose, leaning over a case file, crime scene photos sprinkled out amongst the other papers. Clearly, Jason Gideon. Another man was standing behind the desk, next to Gideon, dark hair going a bit grey around the edges, wearing a sports jacket and jeans, sporting a salt and pepper beard. The third man was younger, wearing a dark suit with a red tie, his black hair neat and his face clean shaven, steely and somehow warm dark eyes flickering over to the two new entrants. He was probably a few years older than Derek was by Spencer's estimation.

"This is Dr. Spencer Reid," Garcia introduced Spencer as he took in the sight before him and offered the man a tentative wave, suddenly remembering his tingling nerves. "He's supposed to be joining the team…"

Gideon stood and moved around the desk, "Of course, of course. I nearly forget." He reached a hand out to Spencer and the young man took it, surprised at how warm the man seemed. He'd expected someone much different to be the head of an FBI team.

"Spencer, these are Agents Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi." He introduced them. "Members of the team. I was just going over a consult if you want to join us…"

Spencer met the other two men's eyes and cautiously stepped forward into the room. "Of course," he nodded.

Garcia's eyes fell on the photos and she cringed, "I'll be in my office if you need me," she said, suppressing a shudder before closing the door.

"What kind of doctor are you, kid?" Rossi asked, there was faint frown on his face but Spencer tried hard not to be offended by that, he knew was young even being almost twenty-eight years old now.

"Um, I just finished my second doctorate, in Chemistry." he replied. "My first was in Mathematics and I'm starting on another Ph.D. in Engineering next fall. Plus, I uh, I have a BA in Sociology and I'm currently working on another."

Hotchner looked impressed, "Two doctorates and you're gonna get a third?"

Spencer tilted his head, nodding. "Of course," he said, as if that were the obvious choice. "I mean, intelligence means nothing if isn't applied and you can never know _too _much, can you?"

Hotchner smiled at him, "Very true." He agreed, stretching out his hand, "Call me Hotch." He added.

Spencer smiled, "Hotch." He nodded.

Rossi still seemed to be appraising him, but that was alright. Hotch was clearly younger than the other two, Rossi would understandably be a bit weary of a new agent before actually getting to know him.

"Well, Spencer," Gideon motioned to the crime scene photos, "What do you think?"

He lifted one of the pictures between his long fingers and studied it with narrowed eyes, a faint frown on his face.

"We were thinking a psychotic break," Rossi added after a moment.

Spencer just nodded thoughtfully, still studying the picture and then he lifted the second, third and finally fourth crime scene picture from the desk to scrutinize them as well.

"I don't think it's a psychotic break." He finally said.

"Oh?" Rossi quirked a brow. "What then?"

"The unsub gashed open their throats with what looks like a crude instrument," Spencer's fingers sifted through the papers until he pulled out the autopsy report and followed quickly by the evidence report, his eyes scanning the pages rapidly.

"And it wasn't left on the scene. Normally, someone going through a psychotic break wouldn't think to take the weapon with them. According to the autopsy report the cuts could've been made from a jagged piece of glass or metal possibly. And there were several post-mortem stabs on all four victims as well."

He frowned and studied the autopsy report, "The ME reported that there were faint bruises on the wrists, which indicates that the victims were restrained somehow and there wasn't nearly enough blood at the crime scenes for them to have been killed there. They were abducted, restrained, killed and the dumped. There was also evidence that with each kill he's escalating what he does to the body post-mortem.

"Most likely, I'd say that he's a young and inexperienced killer, but he's getting the hang of it quickly. Probably mid-twenties to mid-thirties, smart and more than likely a sociopath. Since all of the victims lived in the same area, the killer likely does too and most likely works some menial job that allows him to blend into the background easily. Probably lives with a mother or sister, an older sister. He's just experimenting now, but he'll continue to escalate until things get even worse. He'll probably be the last person anyone would suspect."

Rossi's lips twitched into a smile, "Very good, kid." He nodded. "I'm impressed. Most first time agents will immediately agree when a senior agent tells them their theory."

Spencer frowned, but nodded slowly. "You never thought it was a psychotic break."

"No," Rossi shook his head. "Just wanted to see if you had to nerve to prove me wrong." He held out his hand then, "Welcome to the team, Agent Reid."

**~/.\~**

Spencer was surprised at how smoothly his first day at went. Gideon had introduced them to a few other agents on different teams and Hotch and Rossi had shown him his desk, made sure he had their numbers programmed into his phone and Hotch even gave him a few tips about handling their job and seeing the crime scenes in person. He spent the majority of his time fielding consults with Hotch or Rossi, though they assured him that the slow days like this were few and far between. They could get called away on a case at any time and he had to be ready for it when it happened.

He was walking back out to the parking lot, knowing Derek was waiting for him out there, when Garcia's voice chimed behind him.

"Wait! Spencer!" she slid into the elevator, more agile than Spencer had expected her to be, and beamed at him, holding two cups of coffee and a large handbag.

"I got you a coffee," she said, offering him one of her drinks. "You look like you could use it."

He took it with a smile, "Thanks," he said, taking a brief sip and wondering how he had ever lived without the stuff before.

"How was your first day?" Garcia asked, still smiling at him. Spencer was certain that he was going to look forward to working with this wonderful, bubbly woman. She would definitely add some color into a job that already looked to be bleak and depressing. But maybe that was why Gideon, Hotch and Rossi seemed to like her so much as well. She reminded them of the bright things in life, that there was still a reason to smile.

"It went well, all things considered." Spencer told her.

"Well don't let them scare you," Garcia said, still smiling at him. "They're just as soft and human as you and me, they've just been working here too long to want to admit it anymore."

Spencer smiled faintly from around the rim of his coffee cup as the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened and they made their way to the parking lot.

"You hungry?" Garcia asked, "I know a wonderful little shop just around the corner if you want anything…"

Spencer blinked, surprised. "Oh, um, I don't know. I sort of –"

"I'm not asking you on a date," the woman's lips quirked into a lopsided grin. "Just a friendly after-work dinner. That's not so bad, is it?"

"No, I didn't…" Spencer fumbled, blinking. "What I mean is that, my… uh, I'll have to ask my boyfriend." He finally said.

"Boyfriend, huh?" Garcia looked thoughtful. "I knew you were too nice to be straight. So, where is he?" she asked. "Is he supposed to pick you up or –"

"Spencer, there you are!" Derek's voice came from a few parking rows down, heading toward them.

Garcia's grin grew wider, if that were even possible. "Oh, wow… You are one lucky bastard, Spencer…" she breathed, taking in the sight of Derek Morgan, dressed in jeans and a tight t-shirt coming toward them. He was still wearing his gun on his hip, Spencer realized that the man went practically everywhere with that gun, not that he blamed him. He'd only been wearing his gun for a day and it already felt oddly like a new extremity to him. He supposed that was a normal feeling, though he honestly couldn't wait to take it off.

He smiled at Garcia, nodding. "I know I am," he agreed as Derek caught up to them and planted a quick kiss on his lips, looking unabashed when the younger man swatted him away.

"Who's this?" Derek asked curiously.

"Penelope Garcia," Garcia introduced herself, her eyes glittering. "Technical Analyst for the BAU, bubbly sex kitten for … well, anyone else." She grinned. "And I believe you must be my soul mate."

Derek chuckled, "I'll buy that." He agreed, grinning wider at the narrow eyed frown Spencer was shooting him. "Of course, the trouble is, I'm sort of taken…" he waved his hand toward Spencer and Garcia smiled.

"Alas, all the good ones are." She beamed. "Just my luck, I meet two nice, sexy guys in one day and they're _both _not only gay, they're taken." She sighed dejectedly. "I suppose I'll have to settle for drooling on you instead… And possibly dinner. At Tandem's, just down the road?"

Derek glanced to Spencer, who shrugged and nodded. He smiled and took Spencer's hand into his own, "I think I'll take that deal." He agreed.

Garcia beamed, "Perfect! I'll lead the way…" she turned and then paused, looking back at them. "If you ever do change your mind about the whole.. gay thing… Spencer's got my number." She winked and turned around again, heading toward her car.

"Oh!" She called over her should, "And if you don't, I've got a video camera I could lend you two... You could make me a little video to ease my torn and suffering heart."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head as the blond woman continued on toward her vehicle. "That woman is one of kind," he smiled in awe of her incredibly unique attitude.

Spencer smiled and tightened his fingers around Derek's as they headed toward their own SUV. "She certainly is," he agreed. "But we aren't making a video of anything for her…"

Derek grinned, "…Alright, fine. Can we make a video for ourselves then?"

Spencer rolled his eyes, "Sometimes, Derek, I wonder why I put up with you."

Derek grinned wide as he pulled the door open on the SUV, "It's because you love me, Spencer."

Spencer nodded thoughtfully, "There is that…"

And he climbed into the passenger seat, smiling, as they followed Garcia to the small restaurant around the corner, marking that day as another of the many life changing events that had turned his life around. In less than eight years he had gone from a prostitute on the streets of Vegas, struggling to make a living and take care of his mother, two a doctor in the FBI with a sexy boyfriend willing to do pretty much anything and everything for him. He'd say life was certainly looking up for him right about now.

And as they laughed and ate dinner, drank bad coffee and choked on Garcia's embarrassing comments, he couldn't help but hope there would be many, many more nights like this in his future.

_**THE END**_

**~~/~~**

**E/N: *sobs inconsolably* Yes, that is really, truly the end. The very, very end. And I am really, truly going to miss this story. I had so much fun writing it and it felt wonderful to finally, finally introduce Garcia ;) She had to be there at some point…**

**I love each and every person who had read, reviewed, favorited or alerted this story! Thank you all so much from the very bottom of my heart!**

**Don't forget to review!**

**PS- If any of you are fans of "The Mentalist" I just started working on my first multi-chapter fic for the fandom, it's called "**_**The Bitter Taste of Revenge**_**" Check it out if you're interested! (yes, shameless self-promotion is so much easier to do on a keyboard LOL)**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed the story!**


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